


Linger

by Pixiigh



Series: Tweek and Craig's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: A lot of f-bombs and some r-words, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Because it's South Park, Can probably figure that one out, Character Death, Dissociation, Gets kinda spicy in chapter 13, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Mutual Pining, My poor understanding of medicine and science, Obviously a lot of angst, Past Relationships, Sharing A Tent, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Survival Horror, Teasing, Wholesome Male Friendships, Zombies, my attempts at humour, not explicitly gory but it's hard to avoid that, soft Craig, they're in university
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22824310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiigh/pseuds/Pixiigh
Summary: A mysterious virus sweeping the world forces Tweek and his friends back to South Park where Tweek has to come face to face with a mistake he made three years ago: breaking up with Craig.But the longer he stays there, the more Tweek realizes that there are problems bigger than dealing with his feelings and some undead assholes roaming the streets...
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Tweek Tweak
Series: Tweek and Craig's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823542
Comments: 51
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

Tweek’s having a  _ really _ hard time concentrating in class. His eye will just not stop twitching and he can barely focus on anything other than the flutter of his eyelash and the back of the lid each time it closes and opens again within a split second.

It doesn’t help that his professor is the most boring person on the planet, either. There’s only so much a person could do to make business ethics interesting, and the professor is doing the complete opposite. Tweek can barely pay attention on the best days.

Today, though, is worse than normal. No matter what he does, he just can not get his eye to stop. Worse still, sometimes he makes involuntary noises at the back of his throat, and they slip out for all to hear.

He eventually settles on slapping his hand over his eye and leaning into it, resting his elbow on the desk. It still twitches under his palm, but at least he sees the same thing whether it’s open or closed.

He makes it through the rest of the class easily enough, deciding to skip the next class he had in a half an hour in favour of going back to his dorm and trying to get his eye to  _ fuck off already. _

Tweek lives alone in a small room on campus, so his trek home is brief. By the time he locks himself into his room, he’s half concerned that his eye will just fall out at any second.

A few fruitless Google searches later, he decides he’ll just call it a day and take a nap. Perhaps his recent lack of sleep due to midterm exams coming up is to blame for his out of control eye. Thankfully, it’s the middle of the day, and his noisy neighbours won’t be home for another few hours.

Stan and Kyle are his friends, really, but he can only handle them in small doses, and typically doesn’t hang out with them when they’re all together. Kyle helps tutor him, as the other young man is smarter than Tweek, and Stan… well, he hasn’t really figured out what Stan has to offer their friendship, but he’s nice enough.

Together, however, the two roommates are  _ extremely _ annoying. Especially when Stan’s girlfriend, Wendy, gets added to the mix. Tweek likes Wendy on her own, too, but it’s pretty clear to everyone on the entire floor that Kyle isn’t her biggest fan.

He doesn’t like to be picky, personally. He appreciates his small friend group, as terrible as they sometimes are as a group. They had all known each other since elementary school, and they had gotten him through two years of university so far, and he’s just thankful he has them around for the third. There were other people he talked to as well, but they were never around for very long.

He happens to like it that way.

He falls into a restless nap not long after his head hits his pillow. He didn’t sleep much at the best of times. He found himself half awake more often than not.

He wakes up, properly, to the sound of things being set down on his tiny desk. He shoots up straight in bed, eyes unfocused and unclear.

“It’s just me.” Kyle’s voice comes from the same direction. “You missed some stuff in class, so I brought it up for you.”

Tweek and Kyle are in the same anthropology elective. Kyle is, of course, doing much better at it than Tweek.

“Thanks, dude,” Tweek says groggily as he shoves his fists onto his closed eyes and rubs at them furiously. “I barely got through my first class and couldn’t do the second.”

Removing the hands from his eyes, he’s able to see his friend clearly now, albeit through a few stars. Kyle is sitting on the chair, pushed away from the desk, with his feet resting on the foot of Tweek’s bed.

His eye has stopped twitching. For now.

“Are you feeling okay?” Kyle asks. Tweek wants to chuckle at the concern, but doesn’t. Kyle took pride in being the “mom friend” of the group, always worried about other people more than himself.

Tweek shrugs. “My eye keeps doing the thing.”

“Have you ever tried going to the doctor?”

“No!” Tweek’s voice comes out more like a squawk than anything. “I hate doctors!”

Kyle is more than used to the paranoia by now, but it doesn’t stop him from looking back at the blond reproachfully, as if offended by the denial.

“It’s just a suggestion, Tweek,” he says. “You know going to the campus nurse is free, right? You’ve had this issue for a while now, maybe it’s time to speak with someone about it.”

“Ack!” Tweek absently grabs the ends of his hair, his usual method to try to calm down. “Dude! That’s too much pressure!”

Tweek could never really explain his aversion to doctors. It had been the bane of his parents' existence for the eighteen years he lived with them in South Park. His father had given up long before that point, but his mother practically had to drag him for his annual check up every year.

Kyle’s seen this from Tweek enough to know how to de-escalate.

“Okay, sorry, dude.” He quickly grabs the books he had set on Tweek’s desk and hands one over. “Do you want me to show you what we did in class today?”

Tweek looks down at the thin book Kyle is offering him, and as his friend speaks about the class, he feels his breathing start to return to normal. Kyle explains the outline of the class that day, points out a few pages that had been focused on, and answers Tweek’s questions calmly.

Kyle checks his watch after a while, looking surprised at the time.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, eyebrows raised. “It’s just about dinner time. Do you want to go down with me? I think Stan and Wendy are going out tonight.”

Tweek doesn’t miss the miniscule scowl on Kyle’s face when he says that.

“Sure.”

Tweek gets out of bed, somewhat reluctantly, and they make their way down to the meal hall together.

The food at the university is nothing exciting, usually not even good. Tweek’s meal plan for the year covers all three meals, at least, so he isn’t one to complain. It would just be nice if he felt like his student loans were covering actual food sometimes.

He and Kyle load up on their usual mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables, knowing better than to eat the cold and rubbery meat provided. At least the veggies are stored in a heated dish.

The meal hall is full of other students, a low buzz in the background of their conversations. Kyle sits where they usually do, near the wall mounted TV that still had working subtitles, always tuned to the local news channel.

Kyle likes that particular table, because he likes to keep up with the news. Current events have always made Tweek’s head spin. He tries his best to tune in, to give him more to talk to Kyle about, but the news has a way of making him feel paranoid beyond belief.

They haven’t been seated for very long when another familiar face joins them.

“Hey Kenny,” Kyle says to the newcomer, a tall and handsome blonde, as he sits beside Tweek. He nods at them both.

Kenny’s another part of Tweek’s small group, another from South Park. Aside from Kyle, Kenny is Tweek’s favourite. He has a certain air about him that Tweek had always liked.

“You guys going home for spring break?”

Tweek and Kyle both make noises of affirmation around the food in their mouths. Kenny starts to pick broccoli off Tweek’s plate. Tweek doesn’t mind.

“You need a ride?” Kyle asks. “Stan and Wendy are going too. I’m sure we could make room for you.”

For three years, the group had always pledged to take a nice vacation down south for spring break. And for three years, the only south they were able to afford was South Park.

Tweek doesn’t ever mind the time at home. It’s nice to see his parents during the school year. A few of his old friends didn’t leave town after graduation, and although they had lost touch over the years, he still liked seeing them around town.

He zones out while Kenny and Kyle chat to each other about the upcoming trip. They talk about seeing their parents, what they would do, what they would bring back as souvenirs from Denver.

As if anyone would  _ want _ one.

Kyle is mid-sentence when he stops speaking suddenly, fork halfway to his mouth, frowning at the TV. Kenny turns his body to see what Kyle is worried about, and elbows Tweek to bring his thoughts back to the present.

The news is showing a series of photographs of various things like bats, a pig, a stock photo of someone in a dentist chair with their mouth wide open, and then –

“A  _ dead body? _ ” Kyle’s voice is an octave higher than usual, his eyes nearly popping out of his head while looking at the screen. “How is that allowed to be shown on network television?”

The screen starts to flash with several images of dead bodies. Kenny gets up to locate the volume button on the side of the screen, and the news presenters voice soon fills the space between it and the boys at the table.

“…Experts believe a new strain of the flu virus is spread through contaminated meat, bat bites, or bites from insects. The casualty rate at this time is not high, and seems mostly contained to one area in Sub-Saharan Africa, but the CDC reports that it is not anything the Western World should panic about.”

Kyle seems to be ignoring what the reporter is saying. “I can’t believe they would show a fucking  _ corpse!” _

Kenny is also ignoring everything but one part of the broadcast, and he looks immensely uncomfortable.

“I can’t believe they would show all those  _ teeth _ , man…”

Tweek has been twitching slightly the whole exchange. His friends don’t notice, but he can’t get it to stop. He isn’t bothered by the teeth or the corpses (although he does agree that it’s wildly inappropriate) but the thought of a new flu strain worries him.

He doesn’t know how long he just sits there, eyes twitching, biting his fingernails down to stumps, before Kenny nudges him out of it.

“You okay, dude?” he asks, looking Tweek in the eye. He looks a little worried.

His friends had been through enough of Tweek’s episodes to sort of know how to at least recognize them. Kenny never liked it when Tweek got in his own head for too long.

“Do you guys remember the swine flu?” Tweek is quiet, but loud enough for Kyle to peel his attention away from the TV to look across the table. “Remember when kids got sick and we all thought they died?”

Kyle hesitates, but says, “they said not to worry.”

“They always say that.” Tweek is struggling to keep his voice even. “Always. But what if we should be worrying this time?”

“Tweek.” Kenny gently sets a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine. Look, we’ll change the channel. Talk about something else.”

Kyle looks like he wants to argue but closes his mouth quickly and complies.

“It’ll be fine, Tweek, I promise.”

*~*~*

A few weeks after the initial news report, it is not fine. Tweek has done his best to ignore the news, which has been driving Kyle crazy, but people still talk. His classes were full of whispers, topics ranging from a flesh eating disease to flesh eating humans. Tweek tries, but he can’t block them out entirely.

The group were on their way out of Denver in Stan’s old, barely functioning van for Spring Break, when Wendy had pointed out a person on the road.

It was never uncommon to see hitchhikers on the highway towards South Park. Stan never stopped for them - most were trying to get into Denver, anyway. Kyle would always admonish his friend for not picking them up, but ultimately, the straggler was forgotten quickly.

This one is different. He’s just… standing there. In the middle of the road. Stock still, staring straight ahead.

Wendy tells Stan to slow down. He frowns but complies and breaks slowly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Kenny asks, craning his neck around Kyle’s seat to better see out the windscreen. “He looks like shit”

“His clothes are all ripped,” Wendy says. “Dirty, too. Stan, I think we should stop and see if he needs help.”

Stan is not pleased. “He doesn’t need any help, Wendy, he needs to get the fuck out of the road.”

As Stan creeps closer, the man stirs. He begins to walk towards the van.

“Oh God!” Tweek has a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Why is he walking like that?”

The man is shambling slowly, and one of his legs is dragging behind him instead of stepping. It’s slow and it’s jerky, but he is clearly making a beeline for the van.

“What is he doing?” Stan is mumbling to himself, almost slowed to a stop. He honks the horn a few times, which does absolutely nothing to deter the advancing figure. “Dude, move!”

The feeling Tweek now recognizes as undeniable dread is creeping up his throat. He finds that he can’t move his legs, or even speak. Otherwise he would tell Stan to floor it.

The man reaches the van, finally. He bumps into it a few times, totally unperturbed about the fact that he isn’t getting anywhere. Kenny unbuckles his seatbelt and crawls over Kyle to get out of the van.

Kyle tries to grab the door. “What are you doing?” he hisses. Kenny easily removes the hand blocking him and steps outside.

“I’m going to see if he needs help.” He’s eerily calm as he pulls the door shut again before Kyle can say anything.

The group is silent as Kenny approaches the man.

“Hey, buddy.” His voice is muffled, but they can all still hear him. “Everything alright out here? Need a lift?”

“Kenny! Don’t invite him in my fucking car!” Stan says loud enough to be heard outside. Kenny ignores him.

The man barely registers Kenny as he keeps walking into the front of the van fruitlessly. It isn’t until Kenny reaches an arm out to the man that he is noticed.

It happens so quickly that Tweek isn’t at first entirely sure that it does happen. Kenny’s hand is almost touching the man’s arm when the man suddenly whips around at lightning speed and tackles Kenny to the ground.

Kenny struggles to get the man off of him. The movement causes them to slide down the embankment beside the highway. Their scuffle is visible to everyone in the car, and they can’t look away.

“Why would that guy attack Kenny like that?” Kyle asks, panic clear in his voice. “He was just trying to help.”

No one has an answer. They just watch the scene unfold.

The man is on top of Kenny, but Kenny is holding him off solidly. He’s caught off guard, though, when the man starts snapping his teeth. Kenny’s arms go slack just enough for the man to bear down on him, and go straight for his neck.

Blood begins to spurt from where the man bit Kenny. He lets out a strangled scream as he continues to try to get the man off him.

Wendy shouts something, Tweek can’t hear it, and Stan steps on the gas again as Kenny starts to go limp underneath the man who is still biting him. Tweek’s eyes are swimming and he can’t focus on what’s going on around him.

He is only vaguely aware of his companions moving around, talking to each other. It’s a blur. He can’t pick anything out. He thinks he can hear someone crying, almost a wail, sniffling. None of it is coherent.

By the time Tweek can see and hear clearly again, they’re pulling over on the side of the highway. As his vision returns to normal, he sees Wendy look at Stan nervously.

“Is it safe to be pulling over right now?” she asks, her eyes flitting around in all directions. “What if there are more people out here?”

“Tweek needs some air.” Tweek then registers Kyle’s hand on his arm. All it does is remind him of Kenny. He flinches a little.

Wendy looks sympathetically back at Tweek. “Two minutes. I’m going to try to call my mom.”

Kyle helps Tweek unbuckle his seatbelt. His eyes are red and there’s a trail of snot running from his nose. He extends his hand to Tweek to help him out of the van, and once they’re both on solid ground, he wraps Tweek into a hug. Kyle barely comes up to Tweek’s chin.

“He… he killed Kenny,” he says into Tweek’s shoulder, almost as if he’s trying to explain the events to himself more than anything. Tweek awkwardly pats his back, his brain still working to register what happened.

Kyle is already crying again before he can say anything else.

The finality of their friend being gone slowly creeps up on Tweek, and when he fully realizes it, he’s too shocked to cry.

“Kyle…” he says. “Kyle, did that guy eat Kenny?”

Kyle howls, the sound muffled by Tweek’s jacket.

Wendy is outside the van with them too now, awkwardly joining the hug. Despite their old feud, she and Kyle appear to be comforted by the others' presence.

“My mom had no idea what I was trying to say,” she says quietly. “We need to keep going to South Park. It’s probably safe there.”

She gives them both one last squeeze and ushers them back into the van. Stan is somber and silent as he starts driving again.

Tweek fights hard to stay alert to their surroundings. There are so many things going on in his head that it’s difficult not to just sink into the thoughts, but he knows that if he does, he’ll just break down.

He hates how it’s always been like this. He can’t have a rational thought to save his life. Everything is constantly mortal panic and if it isn’t, it’s cause for even more worry.

He hopes South Park is safe when they get there. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it isn’t.

~*~*

They arrive within the hour. They don’t encounter any more cannibals, or whatever that guy was.

Stan pulls into his driveway and they decide not to mention anything to their parents. Wendy had been fairly vague with her mother on the phone, so it was unlikely that she would expect much.

“What about Kenny’s parents?” Wendy asks quietly as they take their bags out of the trunk. “Won’t they be worried when they see that Kenny isn’t with us?”

“Kenny didn’t tell them he was coming,” Kyle replies, checking himself in the mirror one last time. His eyes hadn’t swelled any more and he had cried himself out on the way over. “He wanted to surprise Karen.”

Tweek frowns at the thought of Kenny’s little sister. She had just started high school.

They all quietly make their way into Stan’s house. Their parents are gathered in the living room, but their attention is not on their kids. The Marsh’s have the news turned on and everyone is watching the local news channel intently.

Tweek freezes. Not more news. He doesn’t like the scene he’s walking into.

He begins to register the newscaster talking about human bites when his mind goes blank once again. He can’t pay attention to the TV like the others can. He doesn’t fight the block this time, though. He doesn’t want to hear it.

Their parents shuffle around once they realize that they have company. Tweek is brought back to reality when his mom takes his hands in hers.

“Oh, Tweek,” she says, her eyes wet. “I’m so glad you made it.”

She hugs him, and he is confused until Randy speaks up.

“You kids didn’t see anything… weird… on your way up from Denver, did you?” he asks, almost nervous to hear the answer. “Anything out of the ordinary?”

Wendy’s mouth forms a flat line, Stan looks down at the floor. Tweek knows he isn’t going to say anything, he can barely feel his mouth. It’s Kyle who breaks first.

“We saw a guy,” he says wildly. He looks like he’s about to cry again. “He was standing out in the middle of the highway. I made Stan slow down and… and Kenny got out to see what was wrong with him.”

Tweek sucks in a breath. No one else makes a noise. Kyle continues, his voice more and more distraught with each word.

“He got out of the car. I… I tried to tell him not to, but he went anyway. The guy just kept walking into the van like he didn’t know it wasn’t going to move. Kenny… h-he went up to the guy, tried to t-touch him…” Tears now fall freely from Kyle’s eyes and it’s getting hard to understand him. “T-the guy realized K-Kenny was there and then… he… he… he pushed Kenny down the hill and he… w-went for Kenny’s throat… w-with his t-teeth…”

Kyle’s hit his breaking point – he wails and buries his face in his hands. Sheila Broflovski, fierce and comforting, quickly scoops him up in her arms, an impressive feat for such a short woman. Randy is lost in thought.

“Like… like a zombie…” he trails off, tapping a finger against his chin. Stan groans.

“Dad, don’t be retarded.” He’s angry. “There’s no such thing as fucking zombies. This guy was an escaped mental patient or something.”

Wendy elbows him. She’s still pale. “If that were true, it would have been on the news. Besides, there aren’t any facilities around here anyway.”

Stan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, but shuts up. Randy is now pacing back and forth.

“The news... the news said that people were eating each other in California. That’s not that far from here. I think the man you saw… was a zombie.”

Stan groans again, but Tweek isn’t so quick to dismiss Randy’s idea.

“Do you think it all has something to do with the flu they were talking about on the news last month?” Sharon asks, concerned. She reaches out for Stan’s shoulder, but he shrugs her off. 

Randy makes a noise indicating his agreement. “I do.”

“This isn’t a fucking horror movie, Randy!” Gerald, the opposite of his wife cradling their son as he cries, says, as angry as Stan. “Zombies aren’t real! They’re works of fiction.”

Tweek is feeling the dread creep up again. Kyle’s father is right, of course, in that zombies are fictional. But isn’t this always how people get killed in zombie movies? By denying that they’re real?

Their parents continue to bicker. Tweek is tired of it. He slings his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m going home,” he says tiredly. “I don’t care what’s going on. I’m going home.”

All he wants is to take a few swigs of NyQuil, pass out for fourteen hours, and try not to think about Kenny. Or zombies. Or anything, really.

He ducks under the hands of his mother and leaves the Marsh house. No one really seems to notice his absence; they’re all too busy bickering about zombies. His walk home is quiet, and as he turns down his street, he’s a little surprised he doesn’t run into anyone.

He gets into his parents house and scurries upstairs to his room. His parents haven’t touched it and it’s as cluttered as he left it in December when he was home for Christmas. He flings his bag into the corner and dives under the thick comforter on his bed.

He doesn’t need NyQuil to fall asleep this time.

~*~*~

Tweek rejoins his group in his parents coffee shop the next day. He’s pleasantly surprised they’re not making him work while he’s in South Park. Kenny and Kyle are already waiting for him, and Stan and Wendy arrive not long after Tweek.

“So, our parents have lost their minds, right?” Stan says as he blows on his coffee. “There’s no such thing as zombies.”

“I don’t know what that guy was.” Kenny has his hands folded on the table until Mrs. Tweak slides a complimentary latte at him. He knows better than to not accept the Tweak’s hospitality. “He was human, definitely.”

Something feels odd, and it seems that Tweek is the only one who notices. They’re talking about the man as though they had only driven past him the day before, but didn’t they see him eat someone? Tweek can’t remember specifics, but it doesn’t feel right regardless.

The conversation goes in circles until it cycles back to Kenny.

“Whatever the case is, I’m stockpiling food. I don’t have much, but you guys should do the same. If some shit goes down, we need to be prepared.”

“Kenny, this isn’t a fucking horror movie,” Stan says, crossing his arms. “We don’t need to stockpile anything. We just need to be more careful of homeless people, that’s all.”

Kenny narrows his eyes across the table, but shrugs. “Suit yourself. Tweek, Kyle, you guys want to come to Whole Foods with me?”

Kyle nods as he finishes the last of his drink. Tweek says nothing but gets up when Kenny does. Stan looks between the three of them like he wants to say something but doesn’t. He just narrows his eyes and watches them leave.

Once they’re out in the sun, away from his parents, Tweek loses his cool. “What the  _ fuck _ is going on?” He’s got the ends of his hair fisted in his hands. “And don’t tell me nothing is happening! Something is happening! What is happening?”

Kyle and Kenny trade concerned looks; looks that are not lost on Tweek. He groans, loudly, and begins pulling at the hair in his fists.

“You guys think I’m crazy, don’t you?” He’s managed to keep his voice relatively even, but his tone is tinged with panic, doubt, fear. “I’m not fucking crazy. I know you both saw what I saw.”

Kyle opens his mouth a beat before speaking. “…What did we see? It’s so weird. I can’t really remember. I know we saw something, but it’s like my mind can’t bring it up.”

Tweek lets out a tiny scream. “Neither can I!” He’s breathing heavily, eyes wild as they dart between his two friends. “I can’t get it to sit still in my head!”

“We drove past a guy who was eating someone,” Kenny says with finality, confirming the blurry image in Tweek’s head. “He walked in front of the van, then attacked someone else.”

“Who did he attack?” Kyle asks, sounding horrified, as if it were the first time he had heard of this despite being there and seeing it. Kenny shrugs.

“Some rando. I don’t know. But it might be serious, so we should  _ really _ get to Whole Foods.”

He turns on his heel and starts off down the sidewalk. Kyle and Tweek exchange looks of their own now, but follow Kenny regardless.

Tweek can’t help but take Kenny at his word, despite the feeling that something was off about it. Kenny is the only one with a coherent explanation, so he must have been in a better frame of mind than the rest of them to have been able to see what happened, and also remember it.

Once under the bright lights and coolness of the Whole Foods, Kenny is on a mission. He directs Tweek and Kyle to grab as much canned food as they can, and to stay away from perishables.

“Jesus, you’d think he’s preparing for the apocalypse or something,” Kyle mutters to Tweek as they pile bags of dried beef jerky and beans in a basket. Tweek makes a sound of fear from the back of his throat, to which Kyle softens. “It’s not the apocalypse, though. I’m sure he’s overreacting.”

Tweek is not settled by Kyle’s words, but tries to control the twitching that has overtaken his entire left side. Thoughts of the end of the world cloud his vision and he fills the basket on autopilot, relying on Kyle to steer him through the store.

He pulls himself back when they’re in the checkout line and Kenny is expecting him to cough up a few dollars. He hardly feels himself moving to put money down in the cashier’s hand. They have too much stuff to carry home in bags, so Kenny steals a cart instead.

As the cart rattles down the sidewalk back the way they came, Kenny starts planning.

“Tweek, we’re gonna store this stuff at your place,” he says. Tweek nods idly. “You have all those shelves in your basement, and the least amount of windows. Your basement is deeper, too, which I think might be better.”

He continues to talk about preparedness. Tweek hardly hears him.

They stop at Kenny’s on the edge of their residential area, and he disappears inside for a moment, emerging with a few backpacks.

“They’re not fancy,” he says and they continue to Tweek’s. “But we can use these for bug out bags if we need to. Hopefully we don’t.”

Kyle frowns. “Ken, I don’t think all this is necessary. I mean, the news is still saying not to panic.”

“Kyle, baby,” Kenny says with a roll of his eyes. “We need to panic the most when they tell us not to. Except, maybe not you, Tweek. I think you can probably turn the panic down a notch.”

Tweek has his hair in his fists again, nails raking against his scalp. “I can’t help it! Jesus Christ, Kenny!”

“Just breathe, Tweek,” Kyle says. Tweek grunts again in panic.

“If I  _ could _ breathe, don’t you think I would? Oh, God, this is  _ way too much pressure!” _

The hair in Tweek’s hands is dangerously close to being ripped out of his head. He needs to get away from his friends, even just for a minute. Just to think, even if he can’t get much thinking done.

He veers off the sidewalk and heads down a path that will take him to the next street over, closer to the town proper. He’ll be able to sit in an alley or something until he calms down.

Weaving in and out of side streets and backyards, he ends up behind a few shops. He crouches next to a dumpster and tries to make himself as small as possible so if Kyle and Kenny had been following him, they’ll have a harder time finding him.

He tucks his head in between his knees and hyperventilates heavily, trying to get rid of the gruesome thoughts of corpses and cannibals assaulting his brain. He’s not doing a great job. It’s hard to focus on getting rid of horrifying thoughts when he has to focus on his  _ fucking eye again. _ It’s started twitching, again, just enough to bother him.

He’s trying to focus on his intrusive thoughts so hard that he doesn’t notice the shambling figure coming into the alley until it stops right in front of him, feet scuffing. The noise alerts him to the presence.

He looks up and suddenly, he can’t move. The thing - man? - standing before him seems to notice the small movement and lets out a guttural moan. The sound is like nothing Tweek has ever heard before. His clothes are torn and dirty – maybe blood stained, Tweek isn’t sure -, hair is sticking out of his head in clumps, and he smells  _ awful. _ His skin is grey and looks almost rotten. It’s hard to breathe from the stench hanging heavily in the air.

Tweek hides his face again. This is it, this is a  _ fucking rotting cannibal _ about to  _ eat him. _ He wishes he had stayed with Kyle and Kenny. He wishes they would come running after him. He wishes he could just move his legs so maybe he would have a chance at escaping.

Eyes hidden, mouth holding back a scream, he prepares to be torn apart by whatever is making those wretched breathing noises above him.

Except… he doesn’t have to. He hears a squelch of impact, and then the noises stop. The body of the man-thing falls to the ground with a loud thud, and only then does Tweek allow himself to look up.

The… thing… is laying on the ground with a wrench sticking out of his eye socket, a thick blood like substance leaking from it. He’s not moving.

Tweek makes a strangled cry as he skitters upwards into a standing position, cursing that he has nothing to defend himself with in case the thing starts to move again. There’s no way he’s going to take the wrench out himself.

He gets a good distance away from the thing, coming to a stop at the end of the alley. He finally allows himself to exhale, loudly, and he almost collapses. He leans against the building behind him for support. His legs can barely hold his weight up.

He is able to catch his breath and semi-control the twitching in his eye. The thing still doesn’t move. He considers trying to take the wrench from the eye socket again. His initial aversion was that he might disturb the thing, but it appears to be dead from the impact. He can’t believe his luck. He probably wouldn’t have been able to aim a wrench like that even from how close he had been when it was standing over him. It must have been thrown from far away to take it down like that.

The sound of footsteps echo off the brick walls of the alley, and Tweek tries to locate the source of the noise. It’s coming from his left side, just before the alley begins. He looks up, but the sun is right in his eyes. Shielding them with a cupped hand, he sees someone walking toward him. He tenses up in panic at first, but realizes they are walking normally.

He’s about to call out, but a deep, nasally voice beats him to it.

“Tweek? Is that you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very nervous about posting this. I mostly write Stardew Valley, this is out of my element. Also, present tense is HARD when 100% of everything else I've ever written is past tense. I apologize for any errors.
> 
> Let me know what you think! This has been my baby for months now, I hope you like it.
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

_“Tweek? Is that you?”_

Tweek knows that voice. He knows he knows that voice, despite the fact that he would rather not know that voice. The sun is still too bright and his eyes have yet to adjust, so he can’t see the person. But he knows who it is.

“It’s me,” the person says. “It’s me, Tweek. It’s Craig.”

Craig Tucker gets close enough for Tweek to see him for the first time in three years. He sucks in a breath.

_Three years._

They aren’t in high school anymore, they’re adults, and Craig looks the part. He’s grown into his long, lanky frame that had plagued him throughout school, and he’s grown his hair out to be tied in a small bun at the base of his neck. He’s covered in grease and looks just as surprised as Tweek is.

Tweek had managed to go the past three years without running into Craig while visiting from college. Craig stayed in South Park, studied mechanics, and was working as an apprentice at the auto repair shop in town. Tweek had been too scared to find this out on his own; all his information on Craig came from whatever Kenny felt like telling him.

Tweek broke Craig’s heart three years ago and now Craig stood in front of him, with a face full of relief and eyes revealing emotions that his monotone would never.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Craig says. He sounds exactly like Tweek remembers him – a flat voice with no infliction to it, despite the smile playing across his lips. “Tweek, I… I can’t believe I _hit it!”_

Tweek lets out a hollow laugh. “Still the best aim in all of Park County.”

The second the words leave Tweek’s mouth, he’s scooped up in Craig’s arms. Craig is at least five inches taller than Tweek, as he always has been, and Tweek can’t help but feel familiar with his head tucked under Craig’s chin.

Craig lets him go suddenly, holding him at arm's length with a look of concern. “What were you doing in the alley?”

“…Panic attack.” Tweek knows better than to lie to Craig. The man could read him like an open book, he knew each of Tweek’s idiosyncrasies better than Kenny or Kyle ever could. He feels like the last three years of not being in touch don’t matter, like they never did. He can tell Craig anything.

Craig quirks his head to the side, and Tweek elaborates. “Kenny is doomsday prepping. It’s not sitting well.”

A sigh escapes Craig, and he looks down to the ground. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” he says. “Maybe that’s what we should all be doing.”

“Oh Jesus, not you too!” Tweek groans. He’s starting to feel the dread creep in again. He’s so sick of the dread. He wishes everyone would just shut the fuck up about disaster readiness already. He can hardly handle it. He grunts and his fists creep up his scalp again, grabbing as much hair as he can. It hurts.

“Hey, hey,” Craig reaches his hands out, almost defensively. He’s seen this hundreds of times before. “Let’s, um… let’s go inside or something. Away from him.”

He points absently behind Tweek’s back to the dead would-be cannibal. The wrench is still sticking straight out of its eye socket as a stark reminder of what had just happened leading up to their reunion. Tweek shudders and follows Craig to his shop, twitching and making nervous noises in the back of his throat the whole way.

The news is on the shop TV. Why does the news _always_ have to be on? Tweek hates the news. It’s on mute so he can’t hear it, but he still flinches at the sight of bombs going off in some Middle Eastern country and trains going straight off the tracks in a wooded area.

Craig leads him into the back, away from the TV. He can finally let out the breath he was holding in at the thought of all the people hurt by the images on the news.

“Do you want me to call Kenny?” Craig asks, snapping Tweek out of the dark thoughts. “Or Kyle? I think I have his number. Or… I dunno.”

They’re now in some sort of staff lunch room, a kitchen. There’s a TV in here too, but it’s just showing some car show.

“Should I even be in here?” Tweek asks, nervous. He doesn’t want to get Craig in trouble. He’s suddenly got an image in his head of Craig being yelled at by a cartoonishly fat looking man with greasy hair and suspenders and an enormous cigar hanging from his teeth.

“I’m the only one in today,” Craig says. “I’m not _supposed_ to be unsupervised, but my boss doesn’t give a shit about anything and just signs my school papers anyway.”

Tweek laughs nervously. He’s still uncomfortable. Craig idly pulls out his phone, flops on the couch, and calls Kenny. Tweek can almost hear the voice on the other end. He’s yelling at Craig before Craig can even say anything.

“Dude, can you just like, shut the fuck up? For two seconds?” Clearly, Kenny can’t. “I didn’t fucking kidnap him, McCormick, I just happened to be outside when he was about to be _eaten._ Oh, yeah, that got your attention, didn’t it.” A pause. “He’s at my shop in town. Yeah. Come get him. And calm down on the fucking apocalypse bullshit, yeah? What? No, Kenny, seriously, you need to cut it out.”

Craig suddenly pulls the phone away from his ear to look at the screen. He frowns.

“He hung up on me.”

Tweek sighs. He’s not comfortable sitting down, so he’s leaned against a counter. “That’s Kenny for you.”

They avoid each other’s eyes, and it’s so obvious that they’re doing it. Now that there’s no imminent threat of cannibalization or being yelled at by Kenny, they don’t know what to say. Craig clears his throat. It does nothing to cut the tension.

“So….” Craig snaps Tweek out of his thoughts. “You hang out with those guys now?”

Tweek’s left side flinches, while the rest of him stays uniform. His eye twitches. Craig never liked Stan and those guys very much. Tweek never cared for their rivalry, nor did he understand it.

“Y-yes,” Tweek says. “Wendy and Stan too. What about you?”

Craig sighs. “Clyde and Jimmy, still. Sometimes Token when he decides to grace us with his presence. He’s not here very often, though.”

“What are they up to these days?” Tweek asks, actually half interested. They were his friends at one point, too.

Craig shrugs. “Token is off being Token, I think he’s in law school now. Not sure. Clyde can’t figure out what the fuck is going on, and Jimmy owns the comedy club downtown.”

His brow furrows a little, and he really looks at Tweek for the first time since they settled into the tiny kitchenette. He looks like he’s choosing his words carefully.

“Tweek…” he pauses, bites his lip. “How… how come you never talk to me anymore?”

Oh, no. It feels like he’s thrown the wrench from the cannibal’s eye into Tweek’s heart. It hurts, and Tweek doesn’t know how to respond.

Three years ago, on the Tucker’s doorstep, the night before Tweek left to Denver for college, he took Craig’s hand in his and with teary eyes, told him they couldn’t be together anymore. Denver was too far from South Park, Tweek didn’t want to be that far from Craig.

So, they just wouldn’t be.

It had made sense to Tweek. He thought perhaps it would spare the feelings of hurt and loneliness that he was sure to feel. But it didn’t help him. And he can see now that it didn’t help Craig, either.

Tweek is about to give some sort of reply, when Kenny and Kyle burst loudly through the door. Tweek barely catches a sigh from Craig.

“Come on, Tweek, we gotta get back to your place,” Kenny says, his voice urgent. “We gotta stockpile this shit and find a way to make it safe.”

Craig frowns and sits up. “McCormick, I told you to cool it with the –“

“He’s right!” Kyle interrupts. “Turn on the news, dude, see for yourself!”

Craig’s frown doesn’t waver as he reaches for the remote and flips the TV to CNN. A banner is flashing across the screen, declaring martial law in heavily populated areas such as New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago.

“Martial law?” Tweek is feeling that dreadful feeling for the millionth time that day once again. “What for? What the fuck? _Already?_ Jesus Christ!”

Craig turns up the volume and they listen to the story.

“…While those living in lower population areas are not under any type of suspension of law, every citizen of the United States is being asked to stay on their guard. Areas with high population are being put under martial law due to the large amount of people and high probability of the disease being spread, despite the WHO not yet knowing the exact method of transfer. Curfews in these large cities will begin at 6 o’clock at night, and last until 7 the next morning. Anyone not adhering to the law without good reason will be shot on site.”

“Oh JESUS!” Tweek screams. He can’t help it. He can’t hear anything his friends are saying to him, doesn’t register when he slides down to the ground, nor when he tucks his head into his knees and starts shaking violently.

It’s all dark, and he can’t see.

*~*~*

He doesn’t remember when he feels like he’s back inside his own body again, but when he does, he makes enough of a ruckus to alert Kyle and Kenny, both of whom seemed to be dozing off.

“Hey,” Kenny says gently, putting an arm around Tweek. “What happened, buddy? Is everything okay?”

Tweek shakes his head. He might be aware of his surroundings now, but he’s too tired to speak. Kenny just twists his arm up and pats his head.

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice soothing Tweek. “I’m just glad you don’t have that thousand-mile stare anymore. It wasn’t for very long.”

“Where’s Craig?” he manages to ask. He recognizes that they’re not in the kitchenette of Craig’s shop anymore, but in his parents’ basement. How did he just not notice that? “Is he still here?”

Kyle shakes his head. “Craig? No, we brought you home. I don’t know if he went home too or what.”

“We got more stuff,” Kenny says. “No one else is, for some reason, so we were able to get a lot. We got a few camping stoves and more food and water.”

Tweek buries his head in his hands, and Kyle shoots Kenny a dirty look. “Let’s talk about something else, Ken.”

Kenny sighs, but understands. “So, how’s Craig?”

“What?” Tweek chokes a little, makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Craig’s fine, you saw him.”

Kenny smirks – Tweek knows that’s not what he meant – but Kyle slaps Kenny’s arm.

“You’re the _worst,”_ he says as he turns to Tweek. “Do you want to maybe go to bed? You’ve had a long day. Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.”

Tweek nods slowly. He is feeling _very_ tired. Apparently almost being eaten and then blacking out for an unknown amount of time is enough to drain a person.

Kenny and Kyle lead him upstairs. His parents aren’t home from the coffee shop yet, leading Tweek to believe it’s still early. Someone’s drawn all the curtains to prevent light from getting through. Tweek tries not to think about why someone, probably Kenny, would do that.

He gets tucked into bed and fussed over for a few moments more before Kenny and Kyle take their leave, murmuring to each other as soon as the door closes behind them. He sighs loudly to help drown them out and nestles under the covers as far as he can go before his toes start to peek out the end of his too-short bed.

He hears them leave the house, locking the front door behind them as they go. Thank _God_ they’re gone. Tweek doesn’t know if he could have handled them for much longer.

He’s almost asleep when he hears the back door jiggle. He freezes in fear.

It can’t be his parents, they usually stay at the shop until well past ten o’clock, and it’s only eight right now. They would have called him if they were coming home early, right? Right.

Oh _God._

The back door opens, and Tweek tries to run a list in his head of who has a key to the back door. Then he remembers that they never lock the back door, their yard is fenced in. Someone would have to hop the fence to get into the back. So, at least it isn’t one of those cannibals. They can barely walk, let alone scale an eight-foot fence.

The sound of footsteps making the stairs creak alerts Tweek to the intruder once again. He can’t move, he can’t blink, he can’t even breathe –

His door is opening. The hallway light is on. It isn’t dark out yet, but the light spills into his room bit by bit as the person on the other end pushes on it. Tweek is absolutely paralyzed, at the mercy of whoever is in front of him.

_Oh, God. Oh, oh no. Oh JESUS._

“Tweek?”

It’s that flat, monotone drawl again that brings him back to life, returning feeling to his extremities and allowing his eyes and lungs to function once more. He’s relieved.

“I thought you stopped sneaking into my house in tenth grade, Craig,” he says. The door is pushed open far enough to reveal the other man, in his usual blue coat and blasé expression.

Craig shrugs and lets himself further into Tweek’s room, scooching Tweek’s feet away and sitting at the foot of the bed without invitation.

“At least it wasn’t the window,” he says flatly, but with the hint of a smile. “Every time I walk past this house, I have flashbacks of when I almost broke both of my legs trying to sneak out the window.”

“How often do you walk past my house?” Tweek asks, suddenly self-conscious for some reason. 

Craig rolls his eyes, barely visible in the dim light of the room. “Wow, Tweek, never heard of going for a walk? We live on the same street, dude.”

“You still live with your parents?” For some reason, Tweek had imagined Craig in an apartment. Not that he ever really thought about him at all. Not even a little.

Craig shrugs. “Free rent.”

“Well if you get free rent, why are you at my house?”

Craig immediately looks away from Tweek and instead stares at the wall. He shrugs again.

“I… I dunno,” he says, although it sounds like he does know. “I have nothing else to do. Tried to go to bed. Can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I,” Tweek says, pushing himself further into his bed and under the blankets. His feet rest against the small of Craig’s back. “Kenny has me wound up too tightly.”

“Also, a cannibal almost ate you,” Craig adds. Tweek sighs.

“Is that really what we’re going with for them?” He isn’t so sure. “Stan’s dad-“

“Is a fucking idiot.” Craig cuts him off, finally looking back at him. “You really don’t want to listen to Randy Marsh, Tweek. The man is insane.”

“But he’s a scientist, Craig.”

“A _geologist_. Who knows nothing about anything. Seriously, it was just a crazy person. Maybe he had rabies, I dunno.”

“Craig,” Tweek says, trying his best to sound as serious as possible. “They declared _martial law_. Over rabies? I don’t think so. The government knows more than we do now, that’s obvious. Oh, God, do you think that Garrison-“

Craig cuts him off yet again. “Garrison got impeached ten years ago, Tweek. They’re just overreacting. It’s going to be fine.”

Tweek knows Craig is just trying to calm him down. Not well, he’s trying.

“I just don’t want to get caught off guard again,” Tweek says in a small voice. Craig’s face softens and he slowly, gently, places his hand on Tweek’s blanketed leg. Tweek knows he’s blushing now. He can’t help it. Something about Craig’s touch is so tender, he can feel it burning a hole through the blanket.

“Don’t worry, Tweek,” Craig says. “I’m sure all of this will blow over soon and everything will be back to the way it was before.”

Tweek still doesn’t believe him, but he knows that trying to argue with Craig never ends up in his favour. He sighs.

“This has been a really weird spring break,” he mumbles, messing up his hair. “I’ve barely even been here for a full day.”

Craig is looking at him with an expression that he can’t place. It’s almost… dreamy, maybe. The Craig sitting at the foot of his bed is a far cry from the Craig he left on the doorstep three years ago. It’s strange – it almost feels like that Craig never existed.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at dealing with things,” Craig says. He’s trying to steer the conversation away from talks about cannibals and near misses. Tweek shakes his head.

“Not really, just better at not reacting for people to see. There is a downside to going to a big university, and it’s being surrounded by people _all the time._ All I ever want to do is scream my head off and let that be that.”

“Still.”

Tweek smiles. Ever since they were kids, Craig had always tried to help Tweek through whatever was going through his head. He appreciated it more than he ever really knew how to put into words, and now, having Craig here at the end of his bed, he feels good about things, despite the circumstances.

“So,” Craig says, bring Tweek out of his thoughts. “How’s school?”

They talk even through the sounds of Tweek’s parents coming home. Mrs. Tweak knocks on the door and then opens it without waiting for an answer.

“We’re home, dear, I just wanted to – ” she stops as soon as the door opens enough to see Craig sitting on Tweek’s bed. “Oh, hello Craig, it’s nice to see you tonight. Tweek, honey, your father and I are home.”

“Oh, uh, thanks mom.” Tweek knows he’s blushing. Craig just smiles and waves at Mrs. Tweak’s retreating form. She closes the door behind her.

Craig chuckles. “Remember when they wouldn’t even let us alone in the same room together? Or when they tried to chaperone the senior prom to make sure we didn’t dance too close?”

“How could I forget?” Tweek rolls his eyes. “God, they had no idea how to deal with anything growing up, literally everything was that awkward, all the time.”

It’s close to midnight now, and the two are still talking. Craig has worked his way up the bed and is sitting beside Tweek, both under the covers.

It feels so familiar, so intimate. Tweek is amazed that Craig is just as confident as he was growing up. He almost feels nervous next to Craig’s warm body as Craig tells him about a new celestial body he’s been reading about.

Tweek is so caught up in listening to what Craig is saying that it takes him a moment to realize that Craig’s hand has ghosted over his and their fingers are resting together. He tries not to think about it, but his heart begins to race and he can feel the heat rising in his face again.

They’re just holding hands. Tweek can’t believe Craig has this effect on him still, the same as when they were kids. He hardly believes Craig can do this to him at twenty one.

He remembers how they were in high school. He remembers how every free moment they had was spent together, sometimes just sitting around doing nothing, happy to be in the company of each other. Craig meant everything.

Now here they are, three years after Tweek said goodbye to Craig for the last time. Craig’s hand in his, legs touching, under Tweek’s blanket together. He suddenly wonders what’s going through Craig’s head.

As though he’s read the thoughts under the blonde mess of hair, Craig says gently, “we don’t have to talk about this, if you don’t want to. Not yet.”

Tweek hums. He feels like he could sit in his bed beside Craig forever.

But, of course, he can’t. He has to go back to Denver in just a few days. He can’t not go back – there are no travel restrictions anywhere in Colorado, no states of emergency. His friends are all going back. He would fail all his classes if he didn’t go back.

But, he wonders, would that really be so bad?

*~*~*

Tweek hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep until the warm body beside him began to cling to him tighter and tighter, knocking the breath out of him.

Just like before.

“Craig,” Tweek wheezes, as loudly as he possibly can while having no air in his lungs. He tries to push Craig off, but he’s much too big and Tweek is much less strong than he wants to admit. “Craig, you’re right on – _oh, Jesus_ – your giant body is suffocating me.”

Craig mumbles something that sounds a bit like, “too bad,” but he rolls off Tweek nonetheless. Tweek’s first breath of air without Craig crushing his trachea is glorious, unobstructed. He massages his chest as Craig begins to wake up.

“You squashed me,” Tweek tells him with a pout once he’s sure Craig is awake enough to understand him. “And you hogged all the covers last night.”

Craig grins in response. “I always did that, though. Should have been expecting it.”

Tweek just rolls his eyes and yanks the covers back over himself to show his indignation. It makes Craig chuckle softly and burrow closer to Tweek to be covered as well, his head pushing up the pillow and laying flat on the mattress.

Tweek reaches over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and checks his phone. It’s barely even seven in the morning, yet Kyle and Kenny have been blowing up his phone for a few hours now. He frowns, pushes Craig off, and sits up. Craig snakes his head up Tweek’s arm to try to see the screen. He wrinkles his nose as Tweek opens up his text thread with Kyle, which is basically at this point just a bunch of gray bubbles full of messages from across the street.

“What do they want?” Craig asks. His tone is laced with disgust. Tweek scrolls up and reads the messages in order.

“They declared another state of emergency,” Tweek says. He’s able to keep his voice even as he reads, but he’s sure once he’s finished, it’ll be nothing but panic. He reads off a few city names, until he reaches one that sparks fear inside him. “Oh my God! They’ve shut down Albuquerque! That’s not very far from here!”

He drops his phone onto his lap as both of his hands spring for his hair, but Craig is faster. He grabs Tweek’s hands and gently folds them into his own. Tweek can feel his body twitching, but he feels disconnected from the motion. His vision cuts in and out. Before it feels like he’s even blinked, Craig is on his knees in front of him, scooping him into a gentle embrace. He’s pulled closer to the sweater-clad chest as Craig begins to rock him back and forth.

He can faintly hear Craig mumbling to him and squeaks and grunts come from his mouth as he pictures the city being overrun with maniacal cannibals.

He realizes, in this haze, that whatever is causing all these states of emergency is hardly cannibals. Hardly human.

He wants so badly to agree with Craig’s assessment of Randy Marsh and his zombie theory last night, but in the light of a new day, with new information seeping in, he’s starting to think perhaps Stan’s eccentric father isn’t too far off the mark.

Craig is stroking his hair and brushing it down to calm Tweek. Tweek balls himself up and tries to push himself closer into Craig’s chest. He tries to steady his breathing, but images of zombies roaming around South Park just make things worse.

“It’s okay, honey,” Craig says softly. Tweek stills at the endearment. Craig always used to call him honey. It never failed to steady him, and it seems to be doing it now. He can breathe again.

Craig runs his hand up and down Tweek’s back, and he’s talking, but Tweek still can’t ground himself enough to hear much. He finds himself dozing off once again, oblivious to the world around him, in Craig’s arms.

He falls into a light slumber, feeling Craig move around every so often. He never slips out of the other man’s hold.

Eventually, his ears start working again. He can hear Craig mumbling to himself, but he’s so quiet that Tweek isn’t sure what he’s saying. Only half asleep now, he strains his ears to try to hear and realizes that Craig isn’t talking to himself when he hears another voice.

“You’re not going back to Denver,” Craig says. His grip on Tweek’s waist tightens and Tweek finds himself leaning into the hands. “You’re all safer here, anyway.”

“Craig, those _things_ are here.” It’s Kenny, and he sounds upset. “The school is safe. I have lots of rations. Just come with us, idiot.”

“There was _one_ here. There are bound to be more in the city. Just because your school is safe doesn’t mean it will be by the time we get there.”

A groan sounds. It’s Kyle. “Craig, Denver is an hour away. It’s not like we’re travelling cross country. Besides, you know that our parents are fucking idiots, dude. If we stay, they’ll get us all killed somehow.”

Tweek winces a little. Craig doesn’t seem to notice.

“Then you guys can go. Tweek is better off staying here. With me.”

Kenny sighs. “You’re being unreasonable. You can’t keep Tweek hostage.”

Craig doesn’t reply. Kyle speaks up.

“I think it’s best if we let him make his own decision. Just like we have. He’s not as delicate as you seem to think he is, Craig, he can go where he feels safest.”

Craig’s grip becomes tighter again. “I know,” he says softly. “I just don’t want to lose him. Again.”

Tweek feels Craig move slightly – Kenny seems to have punched his arm lightly.

“Come on, Tucker, you softie. He’ll be fine. Safety in numbers and all that.”

Craig’s hand brushes lightly against Tweek’s face and rests on his cheek.

“I’m staying here.” He is firm in his words. Tweek can feel his heart sinking. He knows he can’t stay here, even if it is with Craig. “If Tweek wants to go with you guys, I can’t stop him. But if anything happens in Denver… come back. Please.”

His voice shrinks as he speaks, and he sounds small. Meek, almost. Not the Craig Tweek knows.

There’s movement, and it seems Kyle and Kenny have gotten up.

“We’ll go get some more stuff,” Kenny says. “Leave it here, with you. We’re leaving for Denver when we get back here.”

Craig sucks in a breath. “Just… make sure it isn’t all fucking beans, dude. I hate beans.”

*~*~*

Tweek pretends to be asleep for a while longer as Craig holds him. Eventually, he can’t fake it anymore.

He yawns and stretches theatrically. Craig smiles fondly.

“About time you woke back up,” he says. “I know you heard everything. Better get ready for your road trip.”

Tweek narrows his eyes at Craig. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

His companion shrugs, still smiling. He ruffles Tweek’s hair. “You can’t fool me. May have fooled them, but not me. Do you want to go back to Denver?”

His smile fades. Tweek bites his lip.

“I… I think I’ll be safer there.”

There’s a flash of disappointment in Craig’s eyes, but it disappears almost as soon as it had appeared. He rests his cheek on Tweek’s head.

“Don’t ever tell him I said this, but I know McCormick will keep you safe,” he says. “Dude’s got a lot of kick. Just promise me that if anything goes wrong, you’ll come find me. If Kenny can’t keep you safe, come find me.”

Tweek can almost detect the hint of emotion in that empty voice. “Why don’t you just come with us?”

“Someone has to look out for our idiot parents.” Craig doesn’t sound like he’s joking. “Can’t let them fend for themselves, they’d somehow find a way to make this thing even worse.”

Tweek can’t help but agree. Almost every disaster in South Park over the years could have been mostly avoided if it weren’t for their parents. He’s convinced there’s something in the water here. Maybe the food.

“How long do you think it’ll be before this thing blows over?” Tweek asks.

“I hope it’s soon. Whatever is going on. I hope it’s soon.”

They fall silent for a moment before Craig jostles Tweek to get up, insisting the blonde begin to pack what he can. Tweek complies, knowing better than to be stubborn to Craig.

They chat idly while Tweek packs; Craig asks about school again and Tweek responds while neatly folding shirts and tucking them in a wheeled suitcase he found in the back of his closet that he isn’t convinced belongs to him. Craig is appropriately offended when Tweek tells him he hasn’t been taking any science electives, despite having the ability to. Tweek was never good at science. He always copied Craig, all through public school. Tweek reminds him of this, and points out how he doesn’t have anyone to copy off of now. Craig pouts.

“So… you’re going to Denver.” They have reached a lull in the conversation. Craig is clearly trying to lead into something, and Tweek doesn’t like it.

“For now,” Tweek replies as he zips up a compartment in his bag full of socks. “As long as it’s safe.”

He feels like they’ve had the conversation a million times;. He doesn’t want to hash things out with Craig. The longer he’s in the presence of the other man, the more he remembers leaving the first time.

His musings are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Kenny and Kyle once again, both laden with bags. He can hear Wendy talking to his mother downstairs. 

He’s suddenly very thankful for his friends and their evident lack of awareness.

“Ready, Tweek?” Kenny asks, looking between the blonde on the floor and Craig, still sprawled out on the bed. Tweek can’t help the twitch that begins.

He notices that Craig isn’t looking at him. Or anyone. Just up at the ceiling, a blank expression on his face.

“Y-yeah,” Tweek manages as his entire left side spasms a little. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He can hear Craig suck in a breath, but he doesn’t move. Tweek stands and stares at him for a long moment before he notices.

“Bye, I guess,” he says, barely looking at Tweek. Tweek twitches and grunts in the process.

“You’re on my bed,” he says, squeezing his eye shut to stop it from twitching too. “Are you going to come down with us?”

Craig sighs from the bed, taking Tweek by surprise a little. Wasn’t he just being cuddly and clingy barely an hour ago?

He decides to leave the room, towing his bag behind him without further comment. Kenny and Kyle follow him. He misses the looks they trade behind his back as his suitcase hits every stair individually on the way down.

He sees his mother near the door, and his father sitting on the couch. His mother has been crying. 

“Oh, Tweek,” she says, her eyes watering once more. “Please be safe. Call us if you need to come home. We love you.”

His father gets up, picks up a canvas bag that had been sitting on the floor in front of him and slides it up Tweek’s arm. “Here’s some coffee, son, in case you need to stock up for your French press.”

Tweek has come to recognize that this is how his father expresses his love. He briefly peeks in the bag before nodding to his father and leaning in appropriately to his mother’s hug. 

“You guys be safe too,” he says as Stan pushes the door open, holding it for everyone else to file out. “Also, Craig is up in my bed. I don’t know when he’ll be leaving.”

His mother looks over at his father with an expression that indicates to Tweek that there might be a discussion brewing that he would rather avoid. He quickly lugs his suitcase out the open door and speedwalks to Stan’s van. 

Wendy, bless her, doesn’t seem to understand that Tweek doesn’t want to have the conversation and says, curiously, “what’s Craig doing in your bed?”

Tweek sighs loudly. “Nothing. He stayed the night. He didn’t want me to leave.”

Wendy waggles her eyebrows at him suggestively. He rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

She chuckles and closes the trunk behind her after Tweek manages to squeeze his bag in. “Sure,” she says with a smile. “I’m sure it’s not like that.”

She gets in the front seat and Tweek climbs in the back, where Kyle and Kenny are already settled. He squeezes behind them and sits in the very back, spreading out as Stan starts the van and it squeals to life. 

“Fuck, I hope she doesn’t die on us,” Stan says, backing out onto the street and looking a little worried. “I probably should have gotten her in for service when they called me…”

“...three months ago,” Wendy finishes for him, shaking her head. They begin a bickering back and forth that Tweek just cannot listen to.

He zones out rather quickly, not thinking about anything in particular, until Stan parks in front of Kenny’s parents house.

The house looks just as run down and decrepit as it always did when they were kids. It seems now, though, that someone has tried to start a garden in the front. Probably Karen. 

Tweek shudders when he sees the shed that his parents used to send him to. He tries his best to forget that he was a meth runner at eight years old. 

“I’m only going to be a minute,” Kenny says, climbing over Kyle to the door. “I just want to say goodbye to Karen.”

“She can come with us,” Kyle replies before Kenny closes the door. “We have room. Wouldn’t she be safer with us?”

Kenny grins, perhaps a little wistfully. “Karen is braver than any of us are. I think South Park needs her.”

They all watch him as he enters the house. No one speaks until he gets back, looking slightly downtrodden as he drags another backpack, presumably full of food, behind him.

“Let’s roll,” he tells Stan as he clicks his seatbelt into place. “The sooner we get back to school, the better.”

The van comes back to life and once again, they are off towards Denver.

Tweek tunes out the conversations around him and allows himself to think about Craig. What a strange encounter.

He wonders why Craig would come to his house, looking for attention, and then turn sullen as Tweek left. Perhaps, Tweek thinks, he thought that it could be a quick hookup, no strings attached, with an ex boyfriend. But then, Craig was never like that, not the Craig Tweek knew.

But then, it had been three years. Does Tweek even know Craig anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Craig, babeyyyyyy
> 
> This is mostly just a filler chapter but I love me a soft Craig.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

“Fuck, the highway is closed.”

Tweek snaps out of his musings and looks ahead. Stan is slowing the van down as he approaches a road block. Bright yellow blockades have been set up to prevent people from driving through and there are several police cars parked in random spots, some with the doors open. He curses again and hits the steering wheel.

“I didn’t think they would have it closed,” Wendy says, looking at her phone. “Denver is still safe, as far as the internet knows. I wonder what’s going on?”

Kyle is squinting out the window with the rest of them, taking in their surroundings, when he frowns. “Isn’t… isn’t this the place where we got stopped on the way down?”

Tweek looks out the back window to get a better look. It looks familiar. He recognizes a large tree that grew strangely, a route marker sign. “Yeah, yeah I think it is. Oh, Jesus, do you think… do you think that it’s safe?”

“I think I can see the body,” Kyle says, pointing. “I can only see one, though. Wasn’t there two?”

Tweek cranes his neck to try to see. He doesn’t particularly want to see a dead body, but it’s been nagging him consistently about what had happened two days ago. He can’t help but search for a second body when he sees the tarp covering the first body, the body of the decayed man.

Kenny is silent. It doesn’t seem like the others notice, but Tweek does. Something is odd in the air around his friend.

“Is everything okay?” he asks quietly. He’s concerned. Kenny never acts like this and Tweek doesn’t know how to react. He tries to emulate Kyle as best as he can.

“I just... “ Kenny pauses, his eyes not leaving the spot where Kyle pointed out the body. “Dude, we saw a dead body. There’s a dead body, literally like a hundred feet away from us. Someone is dead under that tarp. That’s fucked up.”

“Kenny, we saw two dead bodies.” At least, Tweek thinks they did. It was two, right? “At least, we saw two the other day.”

“Oh, oh yeah. That’s even worse. Wow. Two dead bodies. Isn’t that something?”

Tweek is confused by Kenny’s behaviour. “Kenny… seriously. Is everything okay?”

“Dead bodies make me nervous,” Kenny replies. “That’s all. I know it’s your thing and all, Tweek, but please don’t worry about me. I just have to wait for my stomach to settle at the sight and I’ll be fine. I thought the teeth on that news story were bad but… I dunno what to do when I see a dead body, I guess.”

Tweek isn’t convinced, but Kenny clearly doesn’t want to talk about it further. He still doesn’t look away from the sight of the body at the bottom of the embankment. His eyes are distant.

A uniformed officer had been making his way over to the car and is now tapping on Stan’s window. Stan rolls it down (by hand, naturally) and the officer ducks his head in the window. 

“You folks headed to Denver?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Stan replies. “We’re students.”

“Innt it Spring Break?” the officer asks. His voice is gruff, but not accusatory. 

Wendy cuts in. “It is, we were just taking a quick trip home to see our parents and then back. We all have a lot of work waiting for us. It’s always nice and quiet when everyone else is on vacation.”

The officer seems to accept this and nods. “Well, we have this stretch of the highway shut down for a little bit. You folks are gonna want to turn around, then take the exit about fifteen minutes down the road from here. It’s a bit longer, but it’s all clear that way.”

Stand and Wendy thank the officer and he’s about to leave before he catches sight of Kenny and looks a little confused. 

“You look just like… nevermind. You kids drive safe, now.” Tweek sees him frown once more before he pulls his head out of the van and leaves, looking back every few feet with suspicious eyes.

“What the hell was that about?” Kyle asks as Stan throws the van in reverse and makes a too-wide turn to swing around, back the way they came. “Who does he think you look like?”

“A handsome devil, obviously,” Kenny replies without missing a beat. “Probably thinks I belong on a magazine cover.”

Tweek is unsatisfied with the answer, but Kenny seems back to normal, and he can feel his head starting to travel and his awareness slipping. Something about that whole interaction with the officer left him feeling very disconnected from their current reality. 

He can’t pay attention to the rest of their conversation, and only comes to when Stan barely makes the exit the officer told them about. The van makes the turn but when Stan tries to straighten out, he overcompensates and loses control. 

Stan tries his best, but once the van hits the shoulder and slides down the hill, it flips twice on the way down. Tweek hangs on to the back of Kenny’s seat tightly, his seatbelt straining on his chest as he is thrown forward. He sees Kyle duck down just in time to be thrown against the door; if he hadn’t moved, he would have easily gone through the window. He can’t see Stan or Wendy, but they seem fine too if Wendy’s crying is any indication.

Kenny, however, hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt. He’s launched from his seat into the window that Kyle avoided, and crashes through it, glass landing all over Kyle’s back and the floor around him. Tweek closes his eyes and tries to block out the crunch he hears when the van does another flip down the hill, not daring to think about what could make that noise. 

The van tips once more on its side, and then appears to be done rolling. Everyone groans in pain as they try to pick themselves up. Tweek reaches over and brushes the glass of Kyle’s back.

“Where’s Kenny?” Kyle asks, getting the last of the glass off himself before looking over to the window and seeing for himself. “Oh, God.”

It sets in what happened to Kenny. Tweek knows he might be able to see if he looks out the window on his side, but he can’t. He already knows what he’s going to find. 

The familiar sensation of his senses being cut off overwhelms Tweek as everyone around him realizes the gravity of their situation hits them. Before he can’t hear anymore, he can hear Wendy scream and wail from the front.

Shapes float in front of him and Tweek knows that it's his friends, but they don’t solidify and he can’t pick them out. He can hear the front door opening from a million miles away. He can hear the sounds of Stan outside, getting sick, and stumbling back in. 

“Kenny’s dead,” he announces, his voice echoing and bounding around in Tweek’s head. 

He can’t place it, but it feels so familiar. He doesn’t know which part feels familiar, but something about the conversation, the atmosphere, feels like it’s happened before. He’s never been in a car accident before, so he tries to dismiss the feeling, but he can’t stop thinking about it.

Kyle unbuckles himself from his seat and crawls into the seat beside Tweek; his weight on Tweek’s side snaps Tweek out of his thoughts. The van comes back into focus and the sight before him is upsetting. Stan is bent over the front seat, his feet planted on the ground outside, Wendy looks shell shocked, and he can’t see Kyle’s expression for being buried too deep in Tweek’s side. Tweek’s whole body is shaking as he wraps an arm around Kyle from the side. 

It feels strange to be the one comforting the redhead when normally it would be the other way around, but he doesn’t know what else to do. Kyle barely seems functional right now and Tweek knows he can’t handle it on his own. He can’t count all the times Kyle has had to do this for him, and it feels appropriate given the situation.

“What are we going to do?” Wendy asks in a small voice. “We have to get back to school.”

“I don’t think we should go back to school,” Stan says, wiping his mouth. “We need to get back to South Park.”

“How?” Tweek asks. “The van got flipped, Stan, we’re stuck here until someone comes to get us. Oh, God, that could take ages! Fuck!”

“I’m going to call my parents,” Wendy says, pulling out her phone. She frowns. Tweek cocks his head, but he can guess what she’s about to say.

“I have no signal. Can someone else check their phone?”

Tweek reaches around Kyle for his phone - he doesn’t have service either. Stan’s phone was dead even before they left South Park, and Kyle’s seemingly went out the window and got crushed by the van.

Tweek is trying very hard to keep it together, at this point mostly for Kyle’s sake. Tweek has never seen him so despondent. He’s having a hard time not retreating back into the void inside his head.

His arm is starting to tingle as it falls asleep under Kyle’s weight and for once, Tweek welcomes the sensation; at least he can feel something. Even when the tingles turn sharp, he revels in his ability to feel.

Stan and Wendy try to plan strategically from up front, but neither of them are coming up with any ideas that would work. Stan seems to think he can get the van moving after being flipped so many times. The van is on an angle, but Stan is convinced that with enough power to the back wheels, he can right the van and drive off. No one bothers to argue with him. 

“It’s worth a try,” he says, jamming the key back into the ignition with vigor. The engine rumbles beneath them and the radio comes on. Tweek is a little surprised. He hadn’t expected it to start again given the state it's in.

_...but I’m in so deep, _

_ You know I’m such a fool for you… _

Tweek recognizes the song on the radio. He frowns. 

“Stan, can you turn the radio off?” he asks. 

“The volume knob is broken,” Stan replies. “I can try with the nub, hang on.”

_...you got me wrapped around your fing-ahh-ahhhhh-ahhhhhhh-ahhhhhhhh, _

_ Do you have to let it linger? _

_ Do you have to, do you ha- _

The van shuts off suddenly, without interference from Stan, who has his fingers jammed in the console where the volume dial once was. He kicks the gas pedal in frustration, withdraws his fingers and starts jamming on the key to get it to start again, to no avail.

“Fucking  _ useless _ .” He slams his hands down on the steering wheel. “I don’t know what to do. Any ideas?”

“Kenny bought flares,” Kyle says quietly, sitting up. “We could shoot one off and see if someone comes to save us.”

Wendy looks concerned with this idea. “What if there are more of those things out there? Those… well, you know.”

“Zombies,” Tweek supplies, eerily calm.. This only serves to make Stan more angry. “The zombies would hear us.”

“Tweek, they’re not fucking zombies!” he shouts with another hit to the steering wheel.. “They’re… like… I dunno, maybe they’re mutants escaped from Mephesto’s lab or something.”

“If they escaped from the lab in South Park, explain how this all started in fucking Africa, dude.” Tweek feels himself becoming more angry at Stan’s ignorance. “Jesus Christ, if you don’t wake up, Stan, we’re going to fucking die!”

His hands fly into his hair, fisting large chunks of blonde strands painfully. He can’t help the noises that come from his mouth, a mixture of fear and anger, tiny screams that lead into other tiny screams. Wendy turns to look at him; he can’t read her.

“Tweek is right,” she says slowly, bravely, in the face of her beet red boyfriend. “I don’t think we should risk it. I think someone will come along eventually. All our supplies are here. We just have to keep quiet.”

No sooner had she said this than they heard a loud, low groaning coming from somewhere in the distance. Several groans, actually, indicating that there was more than one source.

“Fuck,” Tweek says, his voice a mere squeak. “Fuck, shit, Jesus Christ, we’re going to fucking die.”

“We don’t know what it is for sure,” Kyle whispers, although he looks just as terrified. 

Tweek can just imagine the scene outside as Wendy and Stan clambour over the console and hide in the back, out of sight. The position the van is in now will mostly hide them unless someone comes and peeks directly into the window facing outward. Luckily, the broken window is closer to the ground than the other.

He’s afraid to move for fear of being spotted. He’s picturing hundreds of people, dirty and decaying, cornering the van. He tries his best not to think about it, think about anything else.

The song playing softly from the van speakers earlier pops back into his head. He  _ really _ doesn’t want to think about that, but it’s stuck inside his brain, looping over and over again.

It was his and Craig’s song, once. Craig had requested it at their senior prom and it was the one song that Craig had ceded to Tweek in public. It was too hot in the gym that night, but Tweek felt like home in Craig’s warm embrace as they lazily swayed to Dolores O'Riordan’s voice played on a shitty set of speakers. He felt like they were the only two there.

Now, he can hardly stand to even hear the opening notes before losing his nerve.

He distantly wonders how far he is away from death at that moment, and wonders if Craig is thinking about him. He probably isn’t, but Tweek wants to believe that he is.

The noises outside get closer. Tweek can pick out only three unique noises, instead of the hundreds that he was afraid of. That’s a bit of a relief, but once they start snarling and growling, his relief turns his blood cold again.

He slowly peeks his head up to see out the small window in the back of the van and regrets it immediately, his hand flying up to his mouth to keep himself from throwing up. He quickly ducks his head back down.

Three rotted looking people are all focused on one thing on the ground. They’re not moving very quickly, but they look scary enough to make up for it. They’re full of either dirt or blood, Tweek isn’t sure, and their clothes are ripped and hair taken out in chunks.

“What did you see?” Wendy hisses. Tweek shakes his head.

“They’re here for Kenny…” he says, hoping they get the implication. It appears that they do. 

“What are we going to do?” Kyle whispers. “How are we going to get rid of them?”

Tweek racks his brain, trying to remember what they had packed to defend themselves.

“I don’t think we have anything.” His voice is strained, panicked. “I don’t think there’s anything to get us out of this situation! Jesus Christ, we’re gonna die!”

Kyle acts quickly and slaps a hand over Tweek’s mouth before his volume reaches a level that the creatures outside can hear. He can’t relax.

“How long do you think it’ll be before they leave?” Wendy asks. The hushed conversation continues around Tweek, without him, and he starts to slip once again. He can tell they’re trying to plan out an escape route.

He’s afraid that they won’t be able to escape, that they’ll die here. 

At least he’ll be with his friends. But he won’t be with Craig.

He tries to stomp that thought down as everything around him turns black. As his body turns noodle-like in Kyle’s grip, all he can think of is Craig.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out for. He comes to once again when Kyle gasps directly in his ear. He comes back down to Earth quickly, leaving him dizzy.

A few loud bangs echo around the van and Tweek’s ears start ringing. Something slumps against the van and it rocks back and forth a little. He can still hear footsteps, but it sounds like there are two feet walking instead of the telltale dragging that would indicate another creature. There's a person out there, and from the sounds of things, they shot the creatures.

“What’s going on?” Kyle asks in a whisper-scream. “What the fuck was that noise?”

Tweek, still disoriented and not quite thinking clearly, peeks up out of the window once again.

The first thing he sees is a bright red Corvette on the shoulder of the highway. The drivers side door is hanging wide open and there’s tracks in the dirt heading down the hill to the van. He sees the bodies of the creatures strewn about; not moving. All three look like they've been shot in the head. Thick blood-like substance is coming from the head wounds, slowly, too slowly. Tweek feels sick again.

A steady knocking with a flat palm comes on the drivers window. No one moves. Tweek can’t see that far.

“Stan?” a voice calls out, desperately. “Wendy? Are you guys in there?”

Wendy gasps. Tweek sucks in a breath. He knows who’s out there. Who recognized Stan’s van, who’s quick thinking saved their lives.

He presses his face on the back window and suddenly, he can see the telltale shock of blonde hair.

“We’re going to be okay,” he chokes out. “Oh, God. She’s going to save us!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't *really* mean to end another chapter on a cliffhanger where they get saved by someone being in the right place at the right time, but what can I say? I love stupid tropes. 
> 
> Bet you can guess who it is :)
> 
> This also won't be the only time you see bits of Linger written out phonetically. I'm obsessed.
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

Outside the van, Tweek can hear large bodies being moved off the drivers side door, their best point of exit. 

“Fuck,” comes a grunt from outside. “These are heavy. I thought being dead might make them lose some weight but -  _ ugh _ \- not even close.”

Tweek looks over at Wendy, who is practically vibrating with excitement. Her eyes are rimmed red and shining, but she looks ecstatic. 

“Can someone open the drivers door and, like, kick on it or something?” 

Stan does so; he climbs over the console, situates himself in the front seat, and kicks open the door with both feet, grunting with the effort. A body is thrown several feet away from the door from the impact, hitting a tree and revealing its face before it slumps over the hood of the van. Tweek feels himself bracing in case it’s someone he knows; luckily, it’s a stranger.

Stan scrambles out of the door, and Wendy follows him closely, practically falling as she gets out. She squeals and Tweek can hear the synthetic fabrics on two jackets rubbing together.

Kyle exits next, and Tweek hesitates. He doesn’t want to leave their van full of supplies, but it isn’t like they can go anywhere with it in the state it’s in. He shakes his head and gracefully exits through the door, feet hitting the ground at the same time.

All he can see of Bebe Stevens is her red jacket, as Wendy has her enveloped in a bear hug. Tweek feels a little dazed.

“I thought you were in New York,” he says. 

“I was,” comes Bebe’s muffled voice. “I had to sneak out.”

Wendy lets go of her best friend to allow her to tell her story.

“Maybe sneak isn’t the right word,” Bebe explains. “New York City is under martial law, but it really sucks and no one knows what they’re doing. They were ordered to shoot people on site, but clearly that’s not being followed because here I am. I left in my car and no one even tried to stop me.”

“That’s… concerning,” Wendy says, bewildered. “I thought that the more populated areas would be under better control.”

Bebe shrugs. “Maybe they are, but not where I was. I stayed out of the cities as much as possible. Things don’t seem to be much different. I ran into a few of these idiots on the way down, though.” She nudges a corpse with her foot. It doesn’t move. “I’m sort of glad Clyde used to make me watch all those stupid zombie movies growing up. One shot right to the head and they’re toast.”

Tweek titters, nervously. “You didn’t have to do that too much, did you?”

“Oh yeah.” Bebe is as casual as if she were discussing the weather. “I had to buy a gun in Iowa. Barely any there, but I had hit a few about ten hours into driving and I got spooked.”

Tweek lets out a small scream, body twitching uncontrollably. Bebe with a gun? The thought makes him dizzy. He really does not like the thought of her having a gun. He loves Bebe with all his heart, but she makes him more anxious than any of his other friends. 

“Anyway.” She glances at the wrecked van, then up at her Corvette. “What’s the plan?’

The rest of them look at each other with blank expressions. They hadn’t thought that far. 

“Uh, well, my van won’t start anymore,” Stan says. “All our stuff is in there.”

“I can’t fit everyone in my car in one trip.” Obviously, Tweek thinks. “I’ll take two of you and half the stuff back to South Park, then come back for the other two and the rest of your stuff. I couldn’t see you from inside the van so it should be safe. I’ll leave you with a knife.”

Tweek’s hands are shaking. “I can’t hold a knife!”

“I can hold it,” Kyle says kindly, patting Tweek’s shoulder. 

“ _ Actually,” _ Bebe says innocently. “Kyle, you should come on the first trip with Wendy. I trust Stan with a knife and Tweek more than I trust you.”

“That’s offensive,” Kyle replies, his hand tightening on Tweek. Tweek yelps. 

“Yeah, and why can’t we all sit in the back seat?” Stan asks, clearly a little miffed he can’t ride with his girlfriend. 

“I don’t have a trunk, dumbass,” Bebe retorts. “Think about it. Try to picture Kyle fighting someone off with a knife. You know he can’t. And, sorry Tweek, but neither can Tweek.”

Stan breathes out loudly through his nose, pinching the bridge and closing his eyes. “Fine. Be quick.”

Kyle and Wendy both look a little uncomfortable at the prospect of riding together. 

“I’ll take the front,” Wendy says quietly. Bebe nods in affirmation. 

They work quickly to unload half of the supplies; bags of food, clothes and other assorted things are crammed into Bebe’s back seat with just enough room for Kyle’s skinny frame. He looks uncomfortable with his legs bunched up practically against his chest, but it’s nothing compared to the look on Wendy’s face, which contrasts Bebe’s shit eating grin. 

“I should be back in an hour,” Bebe says to Tweek and Stan, both standing beside the van, ready to tuck themselves back in. “Just hang tight. We’ll be fine.”

Wendy and Kyle do not, in fact, look fine, but Bebe bounces back to her car with a wave, unbothered. Stan doesn’t talk as he and Tweek climb back into the van and watch their friends drive away.

Tweek shimmies through the open car door, which Stan shuts behind him quietly. They retreat to separate corners of the van; Tweek squeezes in between the two back seats and pulls a blanket over his body. It’s started to get cold, and while being in the van keeps the wind out, he’s still shivering.

“What should we do with Kenny?” Stan asks eventually, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s also wrapped up in a blanket, his head barely peeking out enough for Tweek to see his face.

Tweek doesn’t know what to say. “Stan… I don’t think Kenny will be going anywhere.” There’s not enough left of him in one spot to take.

“We can’t just leave him.” Stan’s face is screwed up with grief. In all his years of being friends with the man, Tweek had never really seen him upset. He was usually calm and collected, and if not, he was too drunk to emote at all. “Something… something might eat him.”

“Someone might eat him,” Tweek murmurs. The conversation makes him uneasy. 

“There’s no such thing as zombies, Tweek,” Stan says seriously. “All these people have flesh eating disease and are losing their minds.”

Tweek narrows his eyes. “Stan… you know what? Never mind. Sure. Go with that. Flesh eating disease. Good one.”

Stan’s expression changes, and it looks like he’s stewing on something, but he stays silent and casts his eyes away from Tweek, looking off into space. 

Tweek thinks about Kenny. He tries not to recall the image of him flying out the window, but it’s not entirely by choice; much like visions of coming to South Park in the first place, his memories are fuzzy and he can’t place anything. He wonders if perhaps this is just how he is now.

Tweek almost drifts off to sleep before he hears the sound of a car pulling up again. He and Stan sit up and look at each other, almost in fear, in case it isn’t Bebe.

Luckily, it is. She taps on the window and tells them to come out with bags. They empty the van of their belongings and while Tweek gets in the front seat of the Corvette, he watches Stan saying a strangely emotional goodbye to his van before getting in the back. He has more room than Kyle did. 

Bebe wastes no time and speeds off as soon as Stan is buckled in. Tweek’s always been scared of her driving - she’s reckless and doesn’t pay enough attention. He holds on to the side of the seat so hard he’s sure his knuckles are turning white. 

“How did you know we would be here?” Stan asks after a few moments of silence. “You came from South Park.”

A hint of a smile ghosts across Bebe’s lips. “A little birdie asked me to make sure you were safe. I was literally two minutes from South Park when they asked.”

“Who was it?”

“Tweek’s boyfriend, of course.”

Bebe’s smug tone catches Tweek off guard. “I don’t have a boyfriend! Who said that?”

“Who do you think?” Bebe says, the smirk not going anywhere. “Craig, duh.”

“Gah!” Tweek shrieks. “Craig isn’t my boyfriend!”

“He sure seems to think he is.” Bebe is grinning even more than before. “I didn’t know you guys got back together. Care to share the details?”

“ _ Jesus Christ!”  _ Tweek’s eye starts twitching. “He’s not my boyfriend! Did he tell you that he’s my boyfriend? He’s not!  _ Gah!” _

Bebe chuckles. “Breathe, Tweek. I was only kidding. He  _ was _ concerned about you guys though. He said he had a bad feeling. Called me as soon as you left. I had to turn right around and found you pretty quickly before I hit the highway.”

Tweek’s face feels hot. He had left Craig so upset, it was a wonder he even spared Tweek another thought after Tweek had left him sprawled out on his bed. 

It feels like the car is too small. It’s too hot. He’s not even sure why his body is reacting the way it is. It’s just Craig, shouldn’t he be used to this by now? 

“Anyway,” Bebe is continuing, Tweek hardly notices. “I was worried about you guys too. It’s not safe out here.”

“Yeah, guess not.” Tweek jumps a little when Stan pipes up from the back. He had forgotten that he and Bebe were not alone. “How many other things did you see on the way up, besides the three that were outside the van?”

Bebe pauses for a moment. “Eight, I think.”

“Eight?” Tweek jumps. “Eight?! That’s a lot! Jesus Christ!”

Tweek doesn’t want to think about what might happen if they run into eight zombies. He starts shaking at the thought of Bebe dispatching them all with the gun she says she has. It makes him nervous.

Bebe and Stan continue idle conversation, but it fades into the background as Tweek rests his head on the window. The bumps in the road make his head hit the glass. He doesn’t notice. He’s too wrapped up in his thoughts about zombies, guns, and… Craig.

Craig cared enough about his well being to send Bebe looking for him, but he couldn’t even get out of bed to see him off before he left for Denver? Tweek can hardly believe it. The nerve of Craig. What is he going to be expecting when Tweek gets back home? Is he even going to talk to Tweek? 

He’s so caught up that he doesn’t even notice when Bebe pulls into the driveway of Kyle’s house. He stares blankly out the window for a moment before he sees Wendy, coming out of the house to open Bebe’s door. She looks flustered. Kyle, who exits the house right after her, looks similar. 

What were they talking about?

Tweek focuses on his two friends to try to stop thinking about Craig. 

He notices the way Wendy’s eyes go soft as she watches Bebe exit the car, not even bothering to greet Stan as he lugs half the bags from the back seat outside.Tweek is so focused on watching Bebe and Wendy interact that when Kyle taps on the window just beside Tweek’s ear, it causes him to jump and scream. 

“It’s just me,” Kyle says, his voice muffled through the glass. Tweek, nevertheless, can’t stop shaking as he unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out. Stan comes out for the rest of the bags in the back seat, and Kyle grabs his arm to stop him.

“What about Kenny?” he asks in a small voice, his eyes going between Stan and Tweek. Stan frowns. 

“What  _ about _ Kenny?” he asks, pulling his arm out of Kyle’s grip and disappearing into the car. “Kyle, he’s dead. Not just dead, but… like… you know, all over the place. There’s nothing we can do about him.”

This obviously isn’t the answer Kyle wants. He bites his lip. “But what - “

Stan is out of the car now, his knees buckling slightly from the weight of the bags looped around his arms. It appears he’s cleared the entire backseat out. 

“Kyle, what were we supposed to do?” he snaps, kicking the door closed with his foot. “I don’t think Bebe would appreciate a fucking dead body in her trunk, especially not one that got mutilated the way Kenny did.”

It strikes Tweek as odd; Stan had been worried about Kenny when it was just the two of them in the wreckage of the van. Why was he so cold all of a sudden?

He realizes that perhaps Stan’s way of coping is denial, to shut people out. It irks Tweek, and he can see that it’s clearly bothering Kyle too, but neither of them say anything to reply as Stan hobbles up to the front door with all the bags, grunting as he adjusts them to open the door. 

Tweek reaches out to try to comfort Kyle, but he’s twitching too hard. Kyle pats Tweek’s hand anyway, knowing that he’s trying. 

Everyone ventures inside together. Kyle’s parents are nowhere to be seen.

“Ike is upstairs,” Kyle says. “He’s getting Karen to come over. The least we can do for Kenny is to protect his sister.”

Tweek agrees with that. Kenny was always fiercely protective of Karen, and he can’t imagine that Kenny would have left her to her own devices if he were here. 

“Where are we going to stay?” Bebe asks. They all look at each other.

“Kenny… Kenny was the planner here,” Kyle says, hesitating. “I don’t think we really figured it all out. We planned on staying at school.”

“There’s some stuff at my house,” Tweek pipes up. “Kenny stored it in my basement before we left. I think we split the rest between us and Craig.”

Bebe nods, thoughtful. “That’s good. We can set up a few safe spots. Can someone call Craig and get him over here? Might as well get him involved in the planning if he’s already got supplies at his place.”

She looks pointedly at Tweek, as does everyone else. His face burns. 

“You all have Craig’s number,” he says with a scowl. “Why can’t you call him?”

“He might like to hear from you,” Wendy says innocently. Tweek feels betrayed. First Bebe, now Wendy? He can’t believe how scheming his friends are. He mutters under his breath as he pulls his phone out anyway. 

“Fine.” He had never deleted Craig’s phone number after three years. He could never bring himself to. Every time he tried, he would just end up staring at his phone with the brightness turned up in the darkness until his eyes started to ache. It was frustrating, and he knew that he had to do it, but he just could never find the strength to move his fingers to the delete button.

Craig picks up after half a second. He sounds breathless when he answers the phone, the nasally drawl striking Tweek right to the core.

“Tweek?”

Tweek’s lips curl into a thin line and smack together quietly in nervousness. “Hi, Craig. Can you come to Kyle’s house?”

“What for?” Tweek can hear Craig inhaling loudly through his nose. “Is everyone else there?”

“Yes.”

Craig sighs. “I guess. Be there in five minutes.”

Without further conversation, Tweek quickly disconnects the call before anything else can be said. He doesn’t like the fact that everyone is listening very obviously. 

“He’ll be here in five minutes,” he announces like they didn’t all hear it for themselves. “What are we going to talk about?”

“We need to have a plan.” Tweek has to admire the leadership role Bebe has assumed. She’s always been a demanding personality, and he likes that she’s taken charge. “It sounds like Kenny had one, but now we need a new one. Obviously no one is going to Denver. I won’t be going back to New York. We need to make sure we can stay safe here in South Park.”

There’s a general murmur of agreement. No one wants to leave. 

Craig arrives exactly five minutes later, quietly coming in and closing the door behind him. Tweek twitches as he watches him cross the room, hands stuffed in his pockets and looking grim. Their eyes meet. Craig doesn’t drop his gaze as he sits beside Stan and Wendy on the couch, earning a scowl from Stan. Craig doesn’t notice it. 

“So, what’s the plan?” he asks, breaking eye contact with Tweek finally to address the others in the room. “Can’t say I’m surprised to see that Denver didn’t work out.”

Tweek narrows his eyes at him, but Craig doesn’t look at him again. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

He can’t stop repeating Craig’s words in his head as Bebe takes the lead on planning, with Stan and Craig chiming in every so often. He has no idea what they’re saying, he doesn’t care. He’ll just do whatever Bebe tells him to.

Was Craig  _ hoping _ they would have to come back from their trip? Did he want them to stay in South Park? Tweek watches him talk without hearing him, watches how Craig will look at him for half a second, and then look away, his expression unreadable. 

Tweek starts to grind his teeth. He hasn’t done that in a while, but he can’t help it. He’s still shaking, eye twitching. He’s lucky his friends are used to him acting this way by now, otherwise he might be concerned at how he looks. At least he can chalk it up to the situation at hand. 

In the end, they decide to keep three safe houses. They decide that since the majority of their stock is at Kyle’s, they’ll stay there if things start to get bad. Tweek’s house, just across the street, would be backup, and Craig’s would be a last resort. Tweek hopes it doesn’t come to that.

They disperse to their own houses for the night, promising to meet up at the Tweek’s coffee shop the next morning. Tweek hangs back to talk to Kyle about classes they’ll miss. Really, he just wants to avoid leaving with Craig, but it seems Craig is waiting for him. 

Resigned, Tweek grabs his own bag and says goodbye to Kyle. Craig follows him out the door, as he expected. 

“Hey,” Craig says as they reach the end of Kyle’s property. He reaches out to stop Tweek, hand closing around Tweek’s arm softly.

“Why did you call Bebe?” Tweek blurts out. His eye twitches. “Why did you think we couldn’t make it back?”

“They closed the highway, Tweek,” Craig replies. “I didn’t think you guys would bother taking the other way.”

Tweek sighs. “Well, we did. Maybe we shouldn’t have bothered. Kenny is gone and so is Stan’s van. It was a waste of time. Jesus Christ, Craig, we could have died! There were three zombies there!”

Craig starts rubbing Tweek’s arm. The gesture calms him down a little. 

“You’re safe, honey,” he says, leading Tweek in the direction of his house. “You’re safe with me.”

Despite Craig’s attempts at reassurance, Tweek doesn’t feel safe. In fact, he feels incredibly unsafe. He looks around in all directions, frantically, until the front door is shut behind them. Craig takes Tweek’s bag from him and his hand slips into Tweek’s, taking the lead up the stairs.

They’re once again in Tweek’s room together. Tweek can still see Craig laid out on his bed, ignoring him as he prepared to leave. Even though Craig is standing in front of him now, definitely not ignoring him, he can’t help but think about it.

He lets out a small, frustrated scream. His hands fly to his hair, gripping large fistfuls of it and pulling hard. The pain makes him scream a little more. He screws up his face, squeezing his eyes closed.

He feels the panic set in, completely overtaking him. He loses control of his legs and his knees buckle to the floor. He can’t breathe. The room feels small. He knows Craig is trying to say something, but he can’t hear it. 

He braces his hands to the floor as his head hits the carpet. His twitching is going to give him carpet burn on his forehead, but he’s not thinking about that. He’s thinking about zombies and Kenny and Craig leaving him forever. He doesn’t even know which one is causing him the most distress. 

Eventually, he stops feeling anything. He doesn’t know how long this goes on for, but when he finally wakes up, he’s tucked into his bed, with his jeans and socks taken off. He sits up, head spinning, trying to find something in the dark. 

There’s a grunt beside him and he’s softly pulled back down. 

It’s Craig. 

Tweek stifles a gasp as Craig groans, grabs a fistful of blanket, and rolls over away from Tweek. 

What the hell is Craig doing in his bed? Again?

~*~*~

Working at the WHO is a dream come true for Heidi Turner. She could hardly believe it when she got the letter that she would be doing her internship there. She spends every day there working harder than ever, powered by the knowledge that she’s making a difference. 

She never expected, however, a literal zombie apocalypse to start there. 

The day had started like any other Thursday. She got in early, made a coffee, and reported to the lab she had been assigned to to get her work tasks for the day.

Inside the lab was a frenzy of activity, panicked doctors and researchers trading information with a sense of urgency Heidi had never seen before. 

“What’s going on?” she asked one of the doctors that didn’t have the attention of four other people. “Is something wrong?”

“We’re not sure,” the doctor replied. He tilted his hand to show her the documents he was holding. “There’s a lot of unusual things happening all over the world right now. Reports of some sort of flesh eating disease are spreading, rapidly.”

“Flesh eating disease? Like, bacteria that eats the flesh?”

The doctor hesitated. “Not… not exactly. More like… people eating flesh.”

Heidi was floored. “Human flesh?”

It wasn’t what she wanted to see, but the doctor nodded. She didn’t know how to process the information. She was suddenly hyper aware of the others in the room, now noticing bits and pieces of their conversations, talking about quarantines, flying diplomats back home, among other things. 

She was particularly disturbed to hear that a man in a military uniform was talking about dropping bombs on areas with high infections to stop the spread. Luckily, the doctors he was talking to didn’t seem too keen on the idea, but Heidi didn’t think that would stop the military. 

The door burst open and two hazmat suits came in, wheeling in a stretcher. Whoever was on the stretcher was covered by a blanket and heavily restrained. Heidi’s heart sank at the sight. 

There was no way that could be good.

She backed up into the wall near the door and watched the scene unfold before her.

As soon as the sheet was lifted, the body underneath it began to stir, violently. It shook the stretcher and strained against the restraints. The noises it was making were ungodly. Heidi was horrified. 

The room began to fill with the smell of death. Heidi had studied enough corpses to know that smell. The body was pale, covered in deep gashes and bruises. Skin was falling off in pieces on the arms and the face. 

Doctors crowded around it and blocked Heidi’s view. She inched closer to the door, her gut telling her she may only have mere seconds to make a break for it. 

Her intuition was right. Somehow, the thing broke free of the restraints and in a flash of movement, grabbed the head of one of the doctors and quickly ripped a piece of flesh off her neck. The other doctors reacted quickly, but whatever was on that stretcher was stronger than any of them.

She didn’t give it a second thought. She threw open the door and bolted. She could hear more footsteps coming behind her, but they didn’t sound right. 

She ran, weaving in and out of rooms until she reached the exit. She could hear screams behind her, crashes, and her heart sank further down to her feet.

She reached her car, breathing heavily and feeling weak, opening the door and fumbling with the key. 

She had to get home. Home to South Park. She had seen enough zombie movies growing up to know better than to stay at the WHO. 

Whatever was spreading, she knew it wasn’t good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEBE, MY BABY
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

Tweek has balled himself up on the opposite side of the bed from Craig. He has no idea why Craig is still there, but he doesn’t know what to do about it.

On one hand, Tweek’s heart can’t help but flutter every time he looks over at Craig’s moonlit bathed face. He doesn’t particularly want it to, but it does. Craig is so close, so warm. But on the other hand, Craig is a dick. He couldn’t be bothered to say goodbye to Tweek, and then he couldn’t even give Tweek ten minutes to be out on his own before calling someone to bring him back home.

To be fair, Tweek supposes, he  _ is _ glad that Craig sent Bebe to find them. But even though they ended up needing her, he’s still upset that Craig wouldn’t even give them the benefit of the doubt.

Craig makes a noise in his sleep. Tweek’s breath catches in his throat. Why does Craig have to be so cute when Tweek is trying to be mad at him?

Is Tweek even mad?

He understands why Craig didn’t believe that they could make it to Denver, he does. Things have been so strange lately, Craig really had no reason to think they would get to school in one piece.

He was just worried about Tweek. For some reason.

The more Tweek thinks about it, the less angry he feels. God damn Craig.

Tweek wants to reach out and touch Craig’s face, but he’s not sure if that would be crossing a line. Although… Craig probably hadn’t even given it a second thought when he crawled into bed beside Tweek.

He can’t decide on what is appropriate here. 

He’s enamoured with the sight of Craig cuddling himself under the blanket. He doesn’t want to be, but he can’t help it. Craig has long eyelashes and clear skin and his hair shines in the light of the moon and…

Tweek shakes his head. He can’t believe that he’s thinking about these things. Stupid brain. He’s  _ trying _ to be mad at Craig. 

Who does Craig even think he is? Thinking Tweek can’t hold his own against some stupid zombies. He beat Craig up once. Obviously Craig forgot about that. Granted, they were nine years old, but he could still probably beat up a zombie too, if he really wanted to.

Yeah. Yeah, he could beat up a zombie.

He huffs loudly, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow at Craig. Stupid Craig.

He’s not able to get back to sleep and instead spends the night on his phone with the brightness turned down, reading articles on how to fight. He realizes how long it’s been since he’s actually punched someone.

He practices punching with the little space he has, turned away from Craig so he doesn’t accidentally punch him. The movement seems to disturb Craig, who starts tossing and turning violently. 

Tweek freezes, letting Craig find a comfortable spot. Apparently, comfortable for Craig is half his body slung over Tweek’s, pulling him in tightly. Tweek’s breath is knocked out of his body as Craig squeezes him close. 

Tweek tries to wiggle out of Craig's hold but only manages to turn himself around in the bed so he's now facing him. Craig has hardly moved the entire time.

Craig’s body is pressed tightly against Tweek, legs wrapped up in his. And, Tweek realizes, Craig is hard. Very hard. Against his leg.

Twee’s face grows hot. He remembers all the times this used to happen when they were teenagers. It was so different then. Tweek back then would have woken Craig up, but he doesn’t know what to do now. 

He tries to move again, but his thigh brushes up against the bulge in Craig’s shorts, causing a small sleepy moan. Tweek stops in his tracks. 

Oh, God. He has no idea how he’s going to get out of this. Craig is wound so tightly against Tweek that anytime Tweek moves, he’s very clearly turning the other man on. 

Craig moves his face just enough for Tweek to be able to see it in the dark. He swears there’s a ghost of a smirk. 

Is Craig awake?

Yeah, Craig is awake. Craig is awake and knows  _ exactly  _ what he’s doing. 

The nerve of him!

He’s got Tweek in such a tight grip that he still can’t move. Awake or not, Tweek doesn’t really want to risk disturbing Craig’s dick again right now. So, against his better judgement, he lays there and sulks while Craig still has a stupid grin on his stupid face. 

Craig is a heavy sleeper, even when he’s only pretending. He even makes little snoring noises for dramatic effect. Stupid Craig.

Although… Tweek can't really find it in himself to be totally opposed to the situation he finds himself in. How many nights did he lie awake in his dorm in Denver, wishing for something exactly like this to happen?

A lot of nights. He can't hide that from himself. All the nights he wanted to pick up his phone and call Craig, hands creeping down his pants…

Tweek's entire body feels hot all of a sudden. He's sweating under the combined warmth of his thick duvet and Craig, though it's not just the body heat radiating off Craig that's affecting him.

The Craig that Tweek knew years ago would spend hours with him, just like this, neither of them wanting to move, neither wanting to be apart. 

This is the Craig that Tweek knows. He was never not. He still is.

As much as Tweek tries, he can't feel anything for Craig without old feelings flooding back into his mind. The Craig that Tweek shared his first kiss with on the playground when they were ten is the same Craig lying on top of Tweek now with a rock hard erection against his leg while pretending to sleep. 

Tweek's stomach is in knots. How can Craig still make him feel this way? Like nothing happened? 

He sucks in a breath when Craig somehow finds a way to press into him even more, his head coming down from the pillow and landing in the crook of Tweek's neck. If Tweek had thought Craig had been asleep, it would look so natural.

But he's definitely awake, and the motion appears deliberate. On purpose. 

Tweek wonders, briefly, if Craig is thinking the same thing, about how things feel just as they used to. He doesn't wonder for long, though; Craig's hot breath on Tweek's collarbone can't hide the ghosting of lips over skin, the slow raise of a leg in between Tweek's. 

Tweek closes his eyes, moving his head back just slightly. Craig has to know by now that he's not fooling Tweek with his sleeping act. 

He seems to be testing Tweek. The inside of his upper lip drags a little on Tweek's collar before it meets the bottom. His tongue slides on skin just for a moment before it disappears. His lips come back with just enough pressure behind them to make an almost silent smacking noise when they pull away.

Tweek is having a hard time staying quiet. It's been three years, but Craig still knows exactly how to wind him up. He can feel his arousal growing, and judging by the feel of the smirk on Tweek's neck when his lips brush it again, Craig has noticed it too.

“You’re not slick, you know,” Tweek murmurs. “I know you’re awake.”

“‘m not awake,” Craig replies sleepily. “You’re dreamin’.”

Tweek snickers a little. “I don’t think so, Craig.”

Craig stretches and wraps his arms around Tweek. He nuzzles further into Tweek’s neck, groaning as his bones crack a little. 

“Just wanna be near you,” Craig says, his voice muffled and barely understandable. “I missed you, Tweek.”

Tweek can’t help but smile softly. Craig missed him. Tweek missed Craig. 

But he doesn’t say so. 

Craig doesn’t mind, though. He breathes in deeply through his nose, against Tweek’s shoulder blade, tickling a little. Tweek squirms at the sensation. 

“How are you feeling?” Craig asks, suddenly serious. 

“What do you mean?”

“You had a panic attack last night,” Craig explains, as though Tweek somehow doesn’t know. “I got worried, so I stayed.”

“Oh, is that why you’re in my bed with no pants on?” Tweek asks, half sarcastically, half actually curious. Craig chuckles.

“It always used to help, you know.” Tweek can’t see his face, due to it being tucked under Tweek’s chin, but he can practically  _ hear _ the shitty grin. “Couple other things always used to help too.”

“Like what?”

Tweek is answered by the ghosting of lips on his collarbone again, breathing in sharply as they begin to move downwards. 

Craig's hand travels up Tweek's back, pushing up his shirt and Tweek gasps when he feels Craig pressing his nails gently into his skin, letting out a soft hiss when they begin to drag downwards. 

He closes his eyes again. Craig moves his free hand up to cradle the back of Tweek's head and he raises his own. Tweek is disappointed that the light kisses have stopped, but not for long; he feels the hot breath on his cheek and opens his eyes to see Craig's. They're so close that his eyelashes brush Craig's cheek as they flutter upwards. Craig's pupils are blown wide and Tweek can barely see anything else.

Tweek wants to kiss Craig. He wants to so badly.

But he doesn't. He waits for Craig.

Craig doesn't kiss him, though.

The nails on his back have turned into a soft hand, holding him gently. Fingers thread through his hair, not pulling, just existing between the strands.

Tweek's hands brace against Craig's chest, sliding up and over his shoulders to connect at his back. 

Craig's body is so warm against his, so solid. Places where Tweek knows he's gone soft are completely different on Craig. His arms feel strong as they hold Tweek between them. 

It almost feels like a dream.

Neither of them do anything for a long time and just look at each other. 

"Tweek," Craig says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I missed you so much."

Tweek doesn't say anything. He seems to have momentarily forgotten how to speak. Craig's lips are so close to his that Craig just saying his name against them zapped through his body. 

Craig still isn't deterred by Tweek's inability to say anything. He moves his hand down to rest on the very small of Tweek's back, a gesture that sends another lightning bolt through Tweek. Long fingers creep down even more, dragging the rest of the hand with it.

Tweek pulls his lips into his teeth for a moment as Craig's hand rests fully on the skin just before his ass, teasing him in a way that only Craig knows how to do.

"Did you miss me?" Craig asks in that same near-silent pitch, lips whispering over lips as it came out. 

Tweek nods, just enough for Craig to feel it.

"Tell me you missed me, Tweek."

Tweek is about to. He really is. But just as he opens his mouth to tell Craig how much he missed him, there's a loud crash from downstairs. 

It catches Tweek completely off guard. He jumps back violently, breaking free of Craig's hold completely. He nearly falls off the bed.

"What the hell was that?" Craig asks, clearly annoyed at the distraction. He sits up, tries to listen. 

Tweek can't hear anything, which makes him more nervous. He starts shaking. Craig looks over at him, concern in his eyes. 

"I'll protect you, honey," he says quietly, holding a hand over Tweek's chest. The weight over his heart comforts him, but only momentarily.

They hear footsteps starting up the stairs.

Tweek is still shaking as he looks at Craig. He's kicking himself for not kissing him earlier, for not telling him how much he missed him. He can tell that Craig is trying not to look nervous, but he's not doing a very good job.

Tweek holds his breath as the footsteps stop outside his door. 

"I hope you guys are wearing pants, because I'm coming in. Actually, I don't care about the pants. Still coming in."

The door opens, and Tweek lets out his breath.

"Fuck you, McCormick." Craig has his hand balanced against his knee, middle finger displayed clearly at Kenny as he enters the room.

Kenny chuckles. "Hello to you too, Tucker."

He closes the door behind him and wastes no time climbing into Tweek's bed, sandwiching himself in between the two occupants and forcing them to move for him. Craig scowls. 

"How did you know we were both in here?" Tweek asks, choosing to ignore the part where Kenny correctly guessed they weren't wearing pants. He's a little embarrassed now that he isn't wrapped up in Craig's arms anymore.

Kenny shrugs. "I had a hunch. Also all of Craig's shit is downstairs. I came to make sure you were still meeting us at your parents shop."

Tweek looks outside; somehow, he didn't notice the sun rising. Probably because he was too busy looking at Craig. 

"What do we need to do there?" Craig asks. His tone is as sour as the nasally monotone will allow. 

"To plan," Kenny answers. "Game plan. Flight plan. Plan if we lose half the group. You know. Plan."

"We did that yesterday," Craig argues back. "You were there. Why do we need to do it again?"

But Tweek frowns and looks at the blonde man squeezed between himself and Craig.

Was Kenny there yesterday? He can't remember. There was no way he wasn't with the group in Kyle's living room last night, but Tweek can't conjure up the memory. He can’t remember where Kenny sat, or what he said. 

He watches Kenny out of the corner of his eye. He can’t quite place what about the situation feels wrong, but it’s a nagging feeling that he just can’t shake.

“...And we need to prepare for what might happen if it gets bad here,” Kenny is saying. Tweek is only half paying attention. “Because I think that the only safe thing to do is to assume it’s going to get bad at some point.”

“Jesus fuck, Kenny, it’s not the end of the god damn world.” Craig is more pissed off than Tweek has ever seen him. “We don’t need to have ten fucking backup plans.”

“Yes we do!” Kenny says, sounding exasperated. “We can’t be too careful! Those things eat people, dude!”

Craig sighs, overly dramatically, and throws himself out of bed. Kenny snickers.

“I knew you weren’t wearing pants,” he says. Craig groans.

“Shut the fuck up, McCormick,” he says, grabbing the pants from the floor and pulling them on. “And you better stop filling Tweek’s head with your bullshit and fear mongering.”

Kenny looks over at Tweek, who hasn’t been following the conversation closely enough to know to look away. He probably looks suspicious. 

“Tweek?” Kenny says. “You good, buddy?”

Tweek’s left side twitches. “I’m fine.”

The look Kenny gives him says that he doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t press it. He turns his attention back to Craig.

“Where are you going?” he asks as Craig gathers the rest of his stuff from the floor. “Aren’t you staying?”

“No,” Craig replies flatly. “I’m going home.”

He doesn’t even look at Tweek again as he leaves. Tweek stares after him, unable to believe what he’s seeing. 

What the hell, Craig?

Craig slams the door behind him, and Tweek hears him stomp down the stairs. 

“What did you do to him?” Kenny asks with a smirk. 

“N-nothing!” Tweek shrieks, his hands starting to shake. Why did Craig leave so suddenly? Without saying anything to Tweek? He can’t  _ believe _ that guy!

Kenny shrugs and snuggles further down into Tweek’s comforter. “Well, we still have a little time. Gonna take a nap. Wanna snuggle?”

“N-no!” 

“Just thought I’d ask.” Kenny snickers and closes his eyes. “Wake me up in twenty minutes.”

“Kenny!”

Kenny sighs. “Look, Tweek, sweet Tweek. Craig doesn’t know what he wants, and clearly he doesn’t know what he’s missing if he’s just going to walk away from this bed. So comfy. Also, you of course.”

“But w-we slept together!” Tweek replies, before realizing the implication. “N-not like that, though! He slept in my bed. And I also slept in my bed. At the same time. Beside each other. And now… now I don’t know. I don’t know anything! Jesus Christ! This is so frustrating!”

Kenny reaches up and pats Tweek’s shoulder. “Tweek, I think you need a snuggle.”

“I… yeah, I think I do.”

Kenny opens his arms wide for Tweek. Tweek sighs a little, but lays down and scoots closer. Kenny wraps his arms around Tweek and pulls him in.

It’s certainly different from being in Craig’s arms, but he doesn’t hate it. Kenny is just as warm and Tweek feels secure in the hold of his friend. It’s nice. He rests his head on Kenny’s shoulder and just appreciates the contact of someone who cares about him without expecting anything. 

Kenny rubs little circles on Tweek’s back to comfort him. It’s working. Tweek feels calm and almost forgets about Craig walking out. 

They lay there for likely over twenty minutes, but Kenny doesn’t move until Tweek does. They silently get up and get ready to head to Tweek Bros. 

Tweek decides not to ask questions about the strange feeling and inability to remember the day before that he had felt earlier. He’s not sure how to approach it. 

He and Kenny make their way to the coffee shop in silence, but it’s comfortable. They don’t need to talk. Kenny has a way of comforting Tweek without saying a single word. 

When they get there, everyone else is already seated at their usual table, drinks in hand. His mother is behind the counter; his father can be seen in the office.

Before sitting down, he grabs his own coffee and a coffee as well for Kenny, nodding a hello to his father and giving a side hug to his mother while the coffee drips into the mugs. 

“Okay, what’s the plan?” Kenny asks as he accepts his coffee from Tweek. “What happens if more of those things come here?” 

Tweek zones out while the others talk. It’s not like he has anything constructive to say anyway. Bebe and Kenny take charge of planning, and through Tweek’s haze, he can tell it’s fairly elaborate. 

He worries about Craig, if he’s being honest with himself. What would Tweek do if something happens to Craig? Douchebag or not, he finally admits to himself that he cares about Craig. He doesn’t want to lose him again. 

He missed him. Just like he misses him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE SOFT CRAIG but also bad Craig >:(
> 
> I wrote some of this on my phone so I hope it's laid out ok. I didn't feel like going back and fixing it because I WAS NERVOUS while writing this because it's a lil dirty. Might be more of this to come.
> 
> I hope you like it!!!!
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

The news is bad. The news is  _ so bad.  _

Tweek hasn’t stopped shaking for days. Every time he thinks he can stomach watching a broadcast, things just seem more and more bleak. More cities have been placed under martial law, quarantines. 

Despite this, South Park appears to be some sort of safe haven bubble; no zombies have been seen in or around the town for days, and everything operates as usual. 

Tweek is working a shift at his parents shop early on a Wednesday when the doors burst open and a frazzled Heidi Turner walks in.

“Heidi?” Tweek calls. The shop is empty. He’s glad.

He’s surprised to see Heidi. She moved away for school the day after they all graduated high school. He had no idea where she went or what she had been doing; ever since she deleted all social media back when they were ten, she never got back on it. 

“Tweek!” she cries. As she approaches, Tweek takes a good look at her. She looks tired. Her skin is pale and waxy, her hair is greasy and matted. “Oh, God, I’m so happy to see you, Tweek. It took me so long to get here.”

Tweek comes out from behind the counter and helps Heidi into a chair. She’s shaking violently, almost as bad as he is. 

“What the hell happened to you?” he asks. He quickly gets her a glass of water and watches her gulp it down desperately.

Heidi sighs. “I came from the WHO. Tweek, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s really bad.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Tweek replies. “I’ve been watching the news. How did you get back to the States?"

Heidi pulls out an official WHO identification card. "I left before it started spreading globally. I've been working with other labs across the country before I came here. I just needed to leave the WHO… before…" she trails off.

That doesn’t sound good. "W-what’s going on at the WHO?” he asks nervously.

Something about Heidi’s face makes Tweek feel very uneasy. Her expression is blank, yet shell-shocked. He braces himself for the worst.

Heidi looks around, leans in and whispers, “zombies.”

Oh. 

“Yeah, I-I know,” Tweek replies. “I’ve seen a few. Do you know where it started?”

Heidi’s eyes bug out of her head slightly. “You’ve  _ seen _ a few? What? Here?”

Tweek explains their trip to Denver and trying to leave South Park, but in an attempt to make her feel better, he adds that no one has seen any for days. Heidi looks horrified. Her face loses any remaining colour. 

“I don’t know what’s happening,” she says, her voice strained and afraid. “Nowhere is safe.”

“It’s not  _ not _ safe here,” Tweek starts to say, trying his best to be comforting, but Heidi grabs his arms and roughly pulls him in close. He’s a little scared.

“Listen to me. Nowhere is safe, Tweek. Nowhere. This is going to get everywhere. It’s in the air, it’s in people’s saliva. Their blood. On their skin. I don’t know how it started, but I’ve seen enough documents on it that I think someone made it.”

“Someone made it?!” Tweek shrieks. “Like, on p-purpose?”

Heidi nods gravely. “I don’t know who would do that, and I don’t know why. But it doesn’t look like something that developed and evolved from any other virus. Most viruses mutate from something similar, but not this one. It was made in a lab.”

Tweek has to fight to stay present. Heidi doesn’t know how to deal with his breakdowns, so he doesn’t want to expose her to it. He also doesn’t want her to panic any more than she already seems to be. He can feel his face twitching and he can barely feel most of his body. 

“I’m scared, Tweek,” Heidi says quietly. “I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.”

Tweek takes a deep breath, tries to keep his voice even. “We’ll keep you safe, Heidi. I p-promise.”

A thought occurs to him, and without thinking, he asks it, not knowing if he actually wants the answer.

"B-but wait… why did you leave the WHO? Isn't it much safer than South Park?"

Heidi looks down at her shoes, and then back up at Tweek.

“It spread,” she says gravely. “It spread to the WHO and… someone turned. I don’t know what happened after I left, but… it’s really not good.”

*~*~*

“Craig, dude, seriously. You need to shut the fuck up about Tweek.”

Craig throws a decorative pillow from Token's enormous bed at Clyde's head with enough force to knock Clyde off kilter. He has to grab the arm of the couch he's sitting on to stay balanced. 

Token has somehow made his way back into town without getting stuck in any quarantines, so naturally, Craig, Clyde and Jimmy were there within minutes of his arrival.

"I'm  _ trying _ to ask my friends for some advice in a situation I have no idea how to operate in, you asshole," Craig snaps. He's spent the last twenty minutes filling his friends in on the latest goings on, save for a few minor details, and most of it involved fretting over Tweek. “I  _ thought _ that maybe someone would want to help me through this.”

He hadn't meant to, really, but he has a hard time not talking about Tweek these days.

And he doesn't know what else his friends expect. He's trying to navigate wanting to get back together with an ex-boyfriend that he isn't sure returns the feeling. It's only natural for him to want advice. This is just what they get for obsessing over their own girl problems all through high school while he and Tweek remained blissful and problem free. 

God, he wishes he could go back to that. Despite Tweek's apparent receptiveness to his affection the last few days, Craig has no idea where he stands. Tweek has never been one to hide his feelings, so he can't understand why he's unable to read him. 

And it doesn't help that Kenny fucking McCormick is all of a sudden Tweek's new best friend, letting himself into Tweek's house whenever he pleases. Stupid Kenny. Of all the cockblocks in South Park, why is it constantly Kenny? He hates how close the two of them have gotten, and how little he knows about their newfound friendship.

"Craig, you're fine." Token seems to be annoyed, but Craig isn't bothered. They see Token so rarely. Being annoyed by friends should be a requirement of coming home. "And, forgive me, but I'm a  _ little _ more concerned about this zombie virus than your personal problems."

"Y-yeah, I think that it's a more p-p-pressing issue," Jimmy pipes up. "Fellas, I just d-don't know what's going to happen to me."

Clyde suddenly looks worried. "What do you mean?"

Jimmy holds up a crutch-adored hand in reply with a grim expression. "I c-can't exactly outrun anything."

Craig immediately feels guilty, like something has stabbed him. Jimmy is one of his best friends, and Craig has barely spared him a thought throughout the whole spread of whatever has been going on. Jimmy doesn't need to hear about Craig bitching about his own idiocy, Jimmy needs someone to help him.

Token stops putting his clothes away and turns to Jimmy with a much softer expression. “I promise that we won't let anything happen to you, right guys?”

Craig and Clyde don’t give it any other thought. “Of course, dude,” Craig says, nodding vigorously. “McCormick gave me a bunch of survival shit. If it gets bad, I’ve got you taken care of.”

“Yeah, me too,” Clyde chimes in. Craig rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, dude, what are you gonna do to protect Jimmy?”

Clyde holds up an arm and flexes his muscle. “I can beat a guy off if I have to.”

The other three snicker until Clyde realizes what he’s said. He crosses his arms and sighs in indignation, muttering, “immature assholes,” under his breath. 

The four of them spend the rest of the afternoon catching up with Token, who appears to be in a better mood than he was before. It’s been so long since they actually had a chance to talk, it almost feels like Token is a stranger meeting new people. 

It’s late before everyone goes home. Craig drives Jimmy and Clyde home before parking his old car in front of his parents house, trying to go inside quietly.

His parents are probably asleep when he gets upstairs, but Tricia is waiting for him.

He doesn’t talk to his sister very often, despite living under the same roof. Craig thinks she’s obnoxious and Tricia thinks he’s an asshole, so they just ignore each other.

So having her accost him right outside his room has him a little miffed.

She narrows her eyes at him, her arms crossed and her stance defensive. She’s just turned sixteen, but she’s somehow one of the most menacing people he’s ever met.

“What do you want?” he asks flatly. “Get out of my way.”

“When were you going to tell me Tweek came back to town?” she asks, her voice just as monotone as his. “I saw him at his parents shop today. He said he’s been here for days. And you never told me.”

“Why would I tell you anything?” Craig counters. “And why do you care?”

He moves to open the door to his room, but Tricia blocks him. “Uh, idiot, I care because Tweek is my friend and I want to know when I can see him. Stupid.”

“Well, you saw him, so I don’t get why me not telling you matters.” He tries to push past her, but her entire body weight is leaned against the door and Craig is ashamed that he can’t budge her. “How come you like him so much, anyway?” 

“Because he’s not a piece of shit, unlike some people in present company. You should have told me,” she says. “People are fucking dying, dickwad, and if I have to fucking die without seeing Tweek again you’d better fucking believe I’d come back and haunt the everloving fuck out of you.”

“Wow.” Craig is a little surprised. “I didn’t realize it was possible to say fuck that much in one sentence.”

“I’m serious, Craig. And I hope you’re taking care of him.”

Craig is able to dislodge Tricia from in front of his door and he quickly inserts himself into the space so he can get it open. “Tweek can take care of himself, asswipe, he’s fine.”

Tricia suddenly reaches out and takes the front of Craig’s jacket into her fist, pulling him close. For someone so much shorter than him, she is  _ really _ strong. 

“That’s not what I meant, you fuck nugget,” she says in a quiet, dangerous voice. “Tweek is really scared right now. You and I both know that he’s going to need help getting through this. I’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, but Tweek? Tweek’s a mess. Take care of him, or I’ll take care of you.”

She releases him, shooting a dangerous look at him to know that she means business. Craig has never been afraid of another person before, but his sister is currently scaring him. 

He hesitates, but says, “I’ll take care of him. You know I will.”

Her eyes narrow before she gives him a nod and stalks off to her own room. Craig, a little shell shocked, retreats into his own.

He’s exhausted when he finally crawls into bed. He falls asleep quickly, trying not to think about the promises he’s made to protect people. 

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to protect them when he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.

*~*~*

“Mom… can I ask you something?”

Tweek has come downstairs to a slightly startling scene. He’s overtired and needs coffee, so his first instinct is to assume that he’s dreaming. His mother, on the other hand, is sitting calmly at the table sipping coffee, her nose in a book.

“Of course, honey,” she says. Tweek looks around once more.

“Why… Why is there so much toilet paper in the living room?”

His mother looks around as well, almost as though she’s surprised. “Oh, this? This is just a precaution.”

“P-precaution for what?” Tweek asks, wading through the stacks of toilet paper packages and entering the kitchen to get his own coffee. “A-are you planning on shitting yourself every hour for the next three hundred years?”

His mother gives him a slight frown, but doesn’t seem bothered otherwise. “Everyone else was buying mass amounts of toilet paper, I just thought maybe it was the proper thing to do.”

“Jesus  _ Christ,” _ Tweek mutters, shaking his head. He wasn’t expecting this from his parents, let alone his mother. As absent as they could be sometimes, they’re usually fairly reasonable people, and this is very out of the ordinary for them. 

He’s still shaking his head, half due to the jitters the coffee has already caused and half due to how unnerved his mother is making him, and leaves the kitchen. His mother can sit in her kingdom of toilet paper all she wants, but he’s not too thrilled about it. 

He’s just about to the stairs, with minimal coffee stains on his shirt, when Kenny bursts in the front door. Tweek is surprised to see him, and Kenny appears to be surprised to see Mrs. Tweak.

“Hi, Mrs. T,” Kenny says, somewhat awkwardly, closing the door behind him. “That’s, uh… a lot of toilet paper.”

Tweek’s mother just nods, still calmly sipping coffee and reading her book. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, honey.”

Kenny casts a doubtful look at Tweek, who just rolls his eyes and gestures upstairs. The two make their way into Tweek’s room. 

“I don’t know what the hell my mom was thinking,” Tweek says as he’s overcome with a twitch so bad it gets coffee all over the floor. He sets his wet mug down on the table and wipes it down. “I don’t even think the entire town could go through that much toilet paper in a whole year! I-it’s ridiculous!”

“Stan’s parents did the same thing,” Kenny replies, flopping on Tweek’s bed. “I saw Mrs. Broflovski with a cart full of hand sanitizer and Lysol wipes, too. Not entirely sure what it’s going to help.”

Tweek doesn’t know either. “Why are our parents so stupid?”

“Wish I knew,” Kenny replies with a chuckle. “Anyway, I just wanted to check on you. You’ve had a rough few days.”

Tweek twitches. “Y-yeah. I’m fine, though. Promise.”

Kenny seems to accept this without question. This is why Tweek likes Kenny. Kenny never pressures him into talking about his anxiety if he doesn’t want to. His other friends, especially Kyle, never take him at face value.

“How long do you think it’ll be before this is over?” Tweek asks after a brief silence between the two. Kenny shrugs. 

“I dunno. I haven’t been paying much attention to the news. But I think we’ll be fine. We’ll figure something out.”

“What if we don’t?” Tweek asks in a strained voice. “Kenny… I can’t explain this. And just answer the question so I know. Are… a-are you dead?”

Kenny laughs, which Tweek wasn’t expecting. “Of course I’m not dead, Tweek, I’m sitting right in front of you.”

Kenny’s answer is so natural that Tweek can’t help but believe him. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I keep getting these… these visions or something where you die…”

Kenny gets up and crosses the room and softly holds Tweek by the arms. He looks directly in Tweek’s eyes, his own soft and understanding. 

“I know you’re scared,” he says in a comforting voice. “But I promise I’m not dead, dude. I’m not gonna die on you guys. You’re all stuck with me for a long time.”

Tweek looks up at Kenny and can’t find anything dishonest. He still can’t shake the feeling, but he has no choice but to trust his friend. He hugs Kenny, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle, like he’s afraid whatever has been happening is going to happen again. 

He doesn’t care about the news right now, the whispers of the epidemic sweeping the country and probably the whole world. All he cares about is the fact that Kenny isn’t dead.

~*~*~*

_ It is day 48, and I still don’t know what’s going on. _

_ I have all my research with me and I was barely able to make it home to South Park. I can’t find anyone who has the knowledge to help me. Fifteen cities, and no one has the knowledge. How can something like this happen? _

_ I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to keep up my research. I hope that someday soon, I can find the cure. _

_ I really hope so, because I’m starting to feel a little weird…. _

_ -H _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRICIA IS A SASSY LITTLE BITCH I loves it
> 
> I'm finding a lot of inspiration in real life right now. There's no toilet paper in the grocery store near my house. 
> 
> Also, I'm working from home for the foreseeable future. There's not a lot going on. Expect more frequent updates. 
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

Tweek doesn't know where he is, but he does know one thing. 

Kenny is a zombie. 

He doesn't know how they got here, he can't see anything and they appear to be in a dark room. He can't make out any identifying shapes or shadows, nothing. Just Kenny with rotted skin, jaw unhinged and falling off his face, coming towards him.

Tweek can't feel his legs when he moves backwards, hoping to hit a wall. He keeps moving, nothing but empty space behind him. Kenny starts coming towards him and he starts to panic. 

"K-Kenny!" he cries. "Kenny, it's me! Kenny! Stop!"

In seconds, Kenny is on him, his teeth bared. Tweek screams… and wakes up.

He sits bolt upright in bed, the sheets sticking to his sweaty skin. He can barely breathe, his chest hurts, he can't see. 

It was just a dream. Just a really fucked up dream. 

A knock comes at his door.

"Tweek, sweetie, are you okay?" His mother's tired voice comes from the other side. He feels guilty for waking his parents up.

"Y-yeah, mom, I just had a nightmare. It's fine."

"Oh, well, try to get back to sleep. Hopefully it's just one nightmare."

Tweek hopes so too, but he doesn't know if he can get back to sleep after this. Seeing Kenny as an undead zombie has him _really_ fucked up.

He checks his phone quickly. It's three in the morning. He bites his lip.

He sends a text message, hovering over the send button for a moment, knowing it's about a 50-50 chance he will get an answer.

_Are you awake right now?_

He used to be able to do this all the time. No matter when, he would get a reply. Now he's not so sure, but he figures there's no harm in trying.

A few minutes pass before he accepts that he's not going to get a reply until later in the morning. That's fine, he thinks, he half expected that anyway.

He's just about to put his phone back on the nightstand when it lights up with a reply. He fumbles with it a little before opening the message. 

_Yeah, I'm playing Animal Crossing. What's up?_

He smiles faintly. Of course. 

He decides not to bother with texting and goes straight to a phone call. It doesn't even get through a full ring before the call is answered. 

"Is everything okay?"

Tweek feels instant relief at the sound of Craig's voice. The lifeless tone soothes him, as it always has.

"I had a nightmare." Tweek's voice is smaller, more feeble than he wanted it to be. "I don't think I can get back to sleep."

Sounds of Craig's game pausing chime through the phone. "Do you need me to come over? Take your mind off it?"

Tweek smiles. He closes his eyes and lays back down. 

"No, but can you just talk to me for a bit? Unless you need to go to bed."

"I don't need to do anything," Craig replies, "except talk to you."

Tweek smiles wider. He feels warm inside. “I mean.. You don’t _need_ to talk to me.”

“Yes I do,” Craig says simply. “You had a nightmare. I don’t want you to have to deal with it on your own, so I’m going to stay up and talk to you so you don’t have another one. What kind of person would I be if I just hung up on you?”

“Everyone else would do that.”

“I’m not everyone else, Tweek.” He can hear the sounds of Craig turning off his console and the squeak of the bed as Craig lays down. “I know what your nightmares are like, I saw enough of them to not want you to be alone.”

Tweek’s heart pounds in his chest. “Remember when I had a dream so realistic I punched you in the face?”

Craig chuckles on the other end of the phone. “We were lucky it was summer break. I would have hated going to school with that black eye.”

Tweek remembers the black eye he gave Craig. He hadn’t meant to, but he was half awake from a nightmare when something popped out at him from behind his eyes and he woke up screaming and flailing, punching Craig square in the eye. Tweek still feels bad about it even today, but Craig had taken it in stride from the second it happened. 

There’s silence for a moment before Craig asks, “what was your nightmare about?”

“Kenny was a zombie,” Tweek says quietly. He doesn’t really want to talk about it again, but perhaps Craig can help him. “He was coming after me. He almost got me, but I woke up.”

“Good thing,” Craig says. “Don’t you know that if you die in your dream, you die in real life?”

“Craig, I’ve died at least a thousand times in my dreams, and I’m still alive. Don’t bullshit me like that.”

“How do you know this isn’t some sort of alternate reality where we’re both actually dead and every time you die in your dream you go to another reality?”

Tweek groans. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Dunno,” Craig says. “I’m just trying to take your mind off your dream.”

They talk longer, with Craig effectively taking Tweek’s mind off his nightmare. He has a hard time keeping his voice down so as not to wake up his parents, and he hears them getting up earlier than usual around five.

“We’ve been on the phone for like, two hours,” Tweek whispers giddly. “When was the last time we did that?”

“Three weeks before high school graduation,” Craig answers immediately, then pauses. “...that’s my best guess, anyway.”

“Awful quick for a guess,” Tweek teases. His parents are leaving the house, presumably to go to the coffee shop, so he doesn’t have to whisper anymore. 

“I remembered.” It’s Craig’s turn to speak softly now. Tweek knows he doesn’t give a shit about waking his parents up so he had been speaking at a normal volume for most of their conversation. “Of course I remembered. How could I forget?”

Tweek is quiet. He vaguely remembers that conversation. They had talked about their future; Craig had excitedly talked about them moving out of South Park, to the city, perhaps, without naming which one. Tweek feels a pang of guilt when he remembers how little he contributed to that conversation because he had received his acceptance letter the day before and had already made his mind up. 

“Craig…” Tweek starts, but he realizes he doesn’t know what to say. “I-I’m sorry.”

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Craig says flatly. Tweek frowns. "I understand. It took me a long time to see it, but I do now. I mean, maybe we could have made it work, but who knows? Maybe it was the best thing for the time."

Tweek can hardly believe that Craig is being so forgiving. He remembers that day so vividly…

_"You're all packed and ready to go?"_

_Tweek dropped Craig's hand as they turned up the walkway to the Tucker house. He couldn't meet Craig's eye._

_"Yeah, all packed."_

_"Great," Craig said, reaching for the door. "What time do you want me to meet you tomorrow?"_

_Tweek bit his lip. He had stewed on this since the day he got his acceptance letter, wrestled with it, and now it was time to do it._

_"Actually, C-Craig… my parents are going to take me to Denver in the morning."_

_Craig didn't look phased. "That's fine, your parents love me."_

_He was missing the point entirely. Jesus Christ, it was_ way _too much pressure for Tweek._

_"Craig, I… I… um… I-I don't think it's a good idea if you come too."_

_Craig cocked his head to the side, looking confused. Tweek didn't even let him get the question out._

_"I think we need to break up."_

_To Tweek's utter surprise, Craig laughed._

_"Good one, Tweek. Now seriously, what time should I be at your place?"_

_Tweek looked up at him, tears welling in his eyes. He couldn't believe Craig thought he would joke about this._

_"I'm not kidding."_

_It may have been the look on Tweek's face for the seriousness of his words to get through to Craig. He frowned, confused._

_"W-what? No, I don't think we do. We're fine, Tweek, we've been fine for years. Is this because you're leaving? I'll come visit you every weekend, I don't mind the drive!"_

_Tweek couldn't handle the hurt look on Craig's face. He couldn't stop it when he started to cry._

_"It's not just that, C-Craig," he said, his voice wet sounding. "I-I just… I don't w-want to be away from you like that. A-and I don't want to feel like I'm… holding you back."_

_"Holding me back?" Craig asked incredulously. "Why would you even think that? Tweek, honey, please -"_

_Tweek cut him off. "Please don't argue with me. I think this is for the b-best. I can't hold on to you forever."_

_He tried to start walking away, but Craig grabbed his arm in desperation._

_"Yes, you can," he said, clinging to Tweek tightly. "You can hold on to me forever, and you know that."_

_Tweek put a hand on top of Craig's that rested on his arm in an effort to try to wiggle out of his grip. Once free, Craig collapsed to the ground. Tweek hoped it was just because of the sudden loss of the body supporting him, and not because Craig didn't know how to process his emotions._

_"Sometimes," Tweek said, his voice surprisingly steady, "things just have to end. Goodbye, Craig."_

_He didn't look back for fear of prematurely starting the breakdown that came as soon as he was safely home and inside his room._

"You never held me back, by the way," Craig says now, stopping Tweek's memory from going any further. "I wasn't even going to go back to school until I thought maybe I could impress you when you came back to visit your parents."

"Impress me?" Tweeks asks, hardly able to believe how freely Craig is admitting all of this right now. 

"Believe it or not, Tweek, but I hadn't exactly planned on the first time seeing you in three years being because something was about to fucking eat you."

“Well, it was pretty impressive,” Tweek admits. “Although, it could have just been the adrenaline.”

"Wow, can't even pretend to be impressed by me saving your life?"

"I never said that," Tweek replies, letting out a small (and embarrassing) giggle. "I liked the overalls."

"Oh yeah?" Craig's voice drops. "What else did you like?"

Tweek can tell where Craig is trying to take this, even in a completely inappropriate moment, but doesn't give in. "I like your hair long, in the bun.”

“...You like the bun?”

“Yeah, I do,” Tweek replies, rolling from his back to his stomach and resting his chin in his hand. He feels like a school girl in a stupid cartoon talking to her crush. “I-it looks… nice.”

Craig snorts a little. “Just nice?”

“Um, yeah.” Tweek’s backed himself into a corner. Craig isn’t going to drop this, he knows that. “It’s… uh… it’s sexy.”

Why does it feel so weird for Tweek to compliment Craig now? He used to do it all the time. And it’s not like he hasn’t complimented anyone since then. He can’t figure out why saying the word ‘sexy’ all of a sudden clams him up and makes him nervous.

“You think I’m sexy, Tweek?” Craig asks, his tone suggestive.

Ah. There it is. 

“I never said that,” Tweek says, his tone both reproachful and coy. 

“I think you’re sexy,” Craig says. It sounds just as easy as if he were commenting on the weather. Tweek pauses.

“Y-you do?”

“Yeah.” He can almost hear Craig shrugging over the phone. “Always have.”

Tweek doesn’t really know how to respond. “...thanks,” he says lamely. 

Before either of them can resolve the awkward pause that’s suddenly settled between them, someone screams. Tweek can’t tell where it’s coming from. 

“Did you hear that?” they both ask at the same time. Tweek rolls out of bed and hears Craig do the same. He heads to the window.

“I can’t tell if that came from your end or mine,” Craig says while Tweek peers out his window. He can’t quite see anything.

“Can you see what’s going on?” he asks, standing on his toes in an effort to see further. His face is almost completely against the glass at this point. “I don’t see anything.”

Craig pauses; Tweek can hear him opening his window. “Nothing yet.”

Tweek looks up, across the street to the tan house, into the top window. He can see Craig standing there, his head stuck out the window, phone to his ear. He’s not wearing a shirt or pants, and Tweek can just imagine how cold the glass must be against his leg. He tries not to imagine Craig in his underwear too long. There are more important things to think about right now.

Maybe he’ll just… tuck the image away for later.

They’re both still searching the streets for the source of the scream when Craig tells him to look down the street, towards Jimmy’s house. Coming around the corner, from the bus stop, is Heidi, followed by a pack of at least three shambling men.

Zombies.

“Isn’t that Heidi Turner?” Craig asks, his voice lifting slightly marking his concern. “What the fuck is going on?”

Heidi doesn’t have a weapon on her that Tweek can see. She’s full-out sprinting down the street; the zombies following a little too close for comfort. Her face is red and she looks terrified. 

Tweek doesn’t know what to do until he sees a shock of red hair coming up behind them. 

“Oh Jesus!” Tweek shrieks, dropping his phone. “It’s Kyle! I have to help him!”

“Tweek, wait!” Craig’s voice from the other end of the phone fades away as Tweek throws himself out of his room and down the stairs, not concerned in the slightest that he’s only wearing ratty sweatpants and a t-shirt and no socks. 

He skids into the kitchen, desperately searching for something to arm himself with to protect Kyle and Heidi. He can hear Heidi scream again outside and he panics. 

All he can find is the coffee pot, so he grabs it and bolts out the front door.

The ground is incredibly cold on his feet, but he can barely feel it from the adrenaline. He looks around wildly; he can’t see anyone. His breath catches and his chest starts to tighten when he can’t find anyone, but he hears garbage cans banging together and spots Heidi tripping and falling into them. 

“Oh _Jesus!”_ Tweek says. He wants so badly to curl up on the ground, fist all his hair in his hands, and let whatever might happen next happen. He’s frozen as he watches the zombies catch up to Heidi and start to pile on her. There are more than Tweek thought, but when they congregate the way they were, it’s hard to tell.

“Heidi!” Kyle screams. Tweek almost forgot Kyle was there too. He snaps out of it and starts running towards the end of the street.

“Tweek! Stop!” He can faintly hear Craig calling. It makes him angry. He stops running and wheels around sharply to face Craig’s house.

He’s standing outside his house, having hastily put on pants and a pair of shoes that look like they belong to Mr. Tucker. He’s still not wearing a shirt.

“I can take care of myself, Craig!” he screams angrily. “I can take care of myself! _N-ngh…_ F-fuck off!”

He doesn’t wait to see Craig’s reaction before he turns back around and takes off running again. Kyle has thrown himself on the backs of one of the zombies and is now struggling with it as it tries to simultaneously get him off and also probably eat him. Kyle is kicking and punching, grunting as he does so.

“Get off of her!” he yells at the zombies crowding around Heidi. She’s fending them off with the lid off one of the garbage cans, but Tweek can see she’s running out of steam. “You fucking assholes!”

Tweek barely thinks as he barrels towards the zombie wrestling with Kyle. When its back is turned, Tweek takes the chance to smash the empty coffee pot over its head. Kyle lets go, and Tweek tackles it to the ground, hitting it over and over with the remains of the pot until it lies still. Kyle is on the ground beside it, breathing heavy. 

Their eyes meet. Kyle’s are heavy with worry, fear. Tweek is sure his look the same. 

They can’t stop for long, as the zombies previously trying to attack Heidi have now turned their attention to the two of them. They scramble upwards, grabbing at each other for balance. 

“Shit, fuck dude,” Kyle says, his voice high and loud. “I-I didn’t think this through.” 

They back up slowly, and the zombies advance just as slow.

Now that Tweek can see them up close, they don’t look anything like the other ones he’s seen. Their skin isn’t as gray or rotted, their clothes are mostly intact. They barely even look dead. 

“Go for their heads!” Heidi shrieks from the ground, still shielding herself with the lid. 

“With what?” Tweek yells back. "I don't have anything!"

One of the zombies snarls at them while another begins to snap its teeth as they advance. 

"Should we run?" Kyle whispers, as if he's worried that the undead in front of them can understand.

"Where would we go?" Tweek asks back in response. The edges of the world are starting to go black, he's starting to lose feeling in his legs. "Why the _fuck_ did you have to run after them?"

"Why did you only come out with a god damn coffee pot?!"

"Excuse me for not having an array of weapons at my disposal, Kyle! At least I got rid of one of them! Jesus Christ, dude!"

He tries to stay calm. He tries to stay focused. He tries so hard, he doesn't notice Craig catching up to them.

He sneaks up soundlessly behind the zombies still drooling over Kyle and Tweek, towing a tire iron with him. He angles it up near the head of the first zombie, and expertly wallops all three of them in one blow, causing them to fall like dominos, landing loudly in a heap on the ground. Craig unceremoniously whacks the pile of zombies a few times before straightening up and dropping the iron.

He's covered in thick dark red blood, flushed and sweating. Without a sound other than panting, he steps over the zombie hill and offers a hand to Tweek.

Tweek is in a daze as he's pulled up. Too soon Craig lets go of his hand to offer it to Kyle to help up too.

"Thanks, Craig," Kyle says gratefully. Craig responds, but Tweek can't hear it.

He's mad. Mad that Craig thinks he has to keep saving him. He doesn't need saving. He could have figured something out. Lured them somewhere and found something to take them out with. Why can't Craig just let him figure things out?

"I could have handled that, Craig," he hears himself saying, his voice low and his tone dark. "Why do you think you need to keep swooping in like that?"

He looks up at Craig, who is looking back at him with a disdainful expression.

"Because I obviously need to."

"No you don't!" Tweek is getting louder as he stands his ground. "Craig, I don't know if you have some kind of fucking hero complex or what, but you need to stop! I can take care of myself!"

"Clearly, you can't!" Craig is getting louder too. "This is three times I've had to save your sorry ass and you're fucking _arguing_ with me?"

"I never asked you to save me!" Tweek bursts. He starts shaking, twitching, and his eye starts going out of control. "I don't _need_ you to save me! I'm fine on my own!"

"Tweek, are you being serious right now?" Craig has his hands clamped firmly on his head, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You're not fine, dude, you've been literally seconds away from death three times and -"

Tweek can't take it anymore. "Fuck off, Craig! I'm serious! I _don't need you!_ "

Craig stops in his tracks. He looks hurt for a moment, but drops his hands to his side and his expression goes blank. 

"Fine," he says flatly. "I guess I'll leave you alone."

"Good!" Tweek screams. He knows he doesn't mean it, he doesn't want Craig to leave him alone. But he can't stop the words coming out. He can't stop feeling angry. He can't even look at Craig.

Craig takes the hint and leaves without another word, picking up his discarded tire iron as he passes it. Tweek is still breathing heavy. His eyes glaze over as the sounds of Craig's footsteps fade away. 

Kyle, who had been watching the scene unfold with his mouth wide open in surprise, tentatively comes over and wraps an arm around Tweek, pulling him in without a word.

Tweek closes his eyes and burrows into Kyle's hold; a tricky feat as they are relatively the same height. His knees crack a little as he bends them. Kyle rubs circles in his back comfortingly as tears begin to flood his eyes.

They're standing in the middle of the road and it doesn't really occur to Tweek that they might be obstructing things until Heidi makes an awkward throat clearing noise from the sidewalk, having discarded the bin lid. Kyle lets go of Tweek and Tweek straightens back up. They join Heidi on the sidewalk.

"So…" Kyle says. "I'd love to know how we got in this mess."

Heidi bites her lip. Tweek looks at her suspiciously - she's hiding something. He narrows his eyes (as much as he can when one of them is having explosive spasms every three seconds). 

"I can explain," she says, and her voice is strained and makes Tweek worried. He gets a better look at her face. She looks more tired than she did the last time he saw her. Her skin was turning an almost gray tone, the bags under her eyes practically purple. 

They wait for her to continue, but she hesitates too long.

"Heidi, what did you do?" Kyle asks, his tone accusatory. He's picked up on her behaviour and her appearance just as Tweek has. 

"... I think it might be better if I show you."

*~*~*

“Heidi, I just gotta ask… What the actual fuck is going on down here?”

Heidi had led Tweek and Kyle to her house, where she took them down to the basement. It looks as though it’s been turned into some sort of medical lab complete with stretchers and beakers and…

“Zombies in a cage,” Tweek remarks, his voice edging upward with every syllable. “I would also like to know what the actual fuck is going on down here.”

To Tweek’s surprise, the two zombies behind bars are lethargic and don’t seem to notice the three of them entering the room. They’re leaning against each other, groaning softly. Tweek flinches into himself as they walk past, desperate to avoid contact with even the air around them.

“They’re sedated,” Heidi says as she notices Tweek’s reaction. “They’re not going to hurt you. I keep them here for experiments.”

“Experiments?” Kyle echos apprehensively. “What kind of experiments?”

She shrugs. “You know, basic stuff. Trying to see what causes them, trying to see if I can reverse it.”

“C-can you reverse it?” Tweek asks. He’s shaking again.

“Not yet.” Heidi shakes her head. “I think I might be close though. Right now I’m working on the genome sequence to see if there’s something changing in their DNA when they get bitten. Once I figure that out, I think I might be able to extract enough information to make a cure, maybe even a vaccine.”

“You can do all that from here?” Kyle asks as he examines the tools on the table closest to them. “That’s amazing.”

“Well, I’m trying.” Heidi turns away from them and instead watches the two sedated zombies. “I’ve been working with labs across the country.”

“That still doesn’t explain where those ones that were chasing you came from,” Tweek said, suddenly remembering the events leading up to Heidi’s disturbing basement. “What the hell happened?”

Heidi hesitates. Yet again, her silence explains it all. 

“They were from your lab, weren’t they?” Tweek asks, chewing the inside of his cheek as he continues to connect the dots. “T-they escaped.”

“It was before I could sedate all of them.” Heidi still doesn’t look at either of them. “I was getting ready to go in, and they all rushed me at once when I was getting these two. I didn’t know what else to do, so I just ran.”

Tweek and Kyle trade concerned looks. 

“Heidi… when was the last time you slept?” Kyle asks. Tweek has gone a few days with little to no sleep, but he’s never looked nearly as bad as Heidi does right now. There’s something else going on.

She doesn’t answer. “I’m going to make things better, guys. I promise.”

Looking at Heidi now, in the bright lights of her basement, he seriously doubts it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing Tweek and Craig fighting :'(
> 
> But I loooooooooooooooooove writing Twyle/Twenny friendships!!! 
> 
> *Also, if you're familiar from the map from SOT/TFBW, Tweek's house is across the street from the others, directly across from Kevin Stoley. I don't actually know if there's a canon spot his house is at, but I know it's not at Tweek Bros so I had to improvise lol. I've fixed a few minor details in previous chapters relating to the location of his house.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

"So, you and Craig broke up again, huh?"

Tweek has been expecting the conversation to turn to him and Craig at some point. He’s ready.

“Hard to break up with someone you never got back together with in the first place,” he says, trying his best to sound nonchalant and disinterested. He stretches out his fingers to look at his nails. “And where, might I ask, did you get this information?”

“You guys were screaming at each other in front of my house, Tweek.” Bebe rolls her eyes. They’re sitting in her living room, joined by Wendy, Red and Nichole. At the mention of Craig, the girls perk up. “And then you went off somewhere with Kyle.”

Ever since he became friends with the girls, a main focus of conversation has been his relationship with Criag. It’s almost a novelty to them. It would upset him if he hadn’t realized that they do this for all members of their group. They calmed down a bit in high school, as they all had more turbulent love lives than him, but he and Craig were still always a topic of much interest. 

If it’s one thing the girls love to talk about, it’s their personal lives.

Tweek’s always struggled to keep up, as he likes to be more private, but he knows he can trust them. There’s no malice in their questions. 

“We didn’t get back together, okay? I don’t even want to get back together.”

Red rolls her eyes. “That’s a fucking lie.”

“You can try to deny it all you want,” Nichole says. “But it’s pretty obvious you’ve wanted to get back together since you broke up.”

Tweek twitches. “No!”

“Tweek, one of the people at school who was actually interested in you left your room crying one night because you called her Craig,” Wendy supplies. “Then there was the guy you broke up with after a week because you found out he didn’t like guinea pigs. Oh, and when you bought one of those blue hats for the guy in our sociology class who asked you out because you thought it would make him more ‘your type’. And that one girl - “

“Alright, I think we get it.” Tweek looks at her in disdain. “I feel really attacked right now, Wendy, and I don’t appreciate it.”

The girls giggle. They seem to sense the hostility behind Tweek’s tone, so Nichole changes the subject.

“And what about you, Wendy?” she asks. “You’ve been with Stan for, like, twelve years now. Doesn’t it get boring?”

Wendy hesitates. “Well… maybe sometimes.”

This caught their interest, and just like that, the topic of Tweek and Craig is forgotten. 

He’s actually interested in what Wendy has to say as well. Her relationship has always puzzled him; when they were kids, Stan would do anything to get Wendy’s attention, but now it just seems like neither of them really care that much anymore. 

“It doesn’t help that he has the personality of a cardboard box,” Red says. 

“He has a personality.” Wendy looks upset. “He’s just… disenchanted.”

“If by disenchanted, you mean a complete asshole.” Nichole rolls her eyes. “Seriously, Wendy, you can do a lot better. You’ve never been with anyone else. Trust me, when I broke up with Token in high school and started dating guys from other towns, things just got  _ so _ much better.”

The girls start gossiping about Nichole and the boys she’s dated. Tweek glances at Wendy and his heart sinks. She looks upset. She can’t meet anyone’s eye and isn’t taking part in the conversation. 

“Guys…” he says, without even thinking. “Stan really isn’t that bad. He’s really smart and he’s really nice. Can we just like… lay off?”

Wendy smiles gratefully at him, and the girls yet again change the subject seamlessly. He’s amazed at how easily they can steer the conversation elsewhere.

He stops listening, as they’re not talking about anything important. He’s concerned that the topic of current events never even gets mentioned. How is it that being attacked by zombies isn’t even on their radar?

Then, he remembers, Heidi was there too. But she’s not here now.

“Where’s Heidi?” he asks, interrupting a story Red had been telling. “Isn’t she supposed to be here?”

Bebe looks confused for a moment. “She said she was coming.”

“It’s been like three hours, where is she?” Nichole gets up and looks out the window, like she was expecting to see Heidi sitting outside. “Should we call her?”

Bebe pulls out her phone to call, but it goes straight to voicemail. 

“She never has her phone off,” Bebe says, worried. “Even during her clinical internship, she never had her phone off. Let’s go see if she’s home.”

The group departs Bebe’s house, pile into Nichole’s car, and head off towards Heidi’s house. As they turn up the correct street, Tweek notices that the door to Heidi’s house has been thrown wide open, and the porch swing has been upended.

“What… what happened?” Wendy asks as Nichole slows down and parks in front of the house. “I have a really bad feeling about this…”

They get out of the car as quietly as they can. None of them know what to expect. The house and the neighbourhood around them are eerily silent. Their footsteps crunch and seem to echo up around them. It makes Tweek nervous.

Red is the first to approach the door. Her hand is shaking as she grabs onto the door frame, almost as if she needs it to propel herself inside. 

“Does anyone have a flashlight?” she asks in a loud whisper. “It’s dark as fuck in here, I can’t see anything.”

Nichole turns on her phone flashlight and holds it high over their heads. Tweek has to bite back a scream when he sees the scene in the living room in front of them. Wendy gags beside him and the light moves a little as Nichole has to steady herself. 

“What the hell happened here?” Bebe asks. Her voice is strained and horrified. 

Tweek notices the blood first, but once his eyes return to normal after Nichole steadies the light, he sees the bodies. Heidi’s parents’ bodies are… strewn about on the floor inside. Mrs. Turner is missing both of her arms and one of her legs, the other leg bent at an unnatural angle. Mr. Turner’s entire body is in pieces. They both look like chunks have been bitten off them, flesh torn away by someone’s sharp teeth. 

“Jesus Christ!” Tweek cries. His hands start to shake, his head feels light. Wendy glances over at him and puts an arm around him to keep him up. She doesn’t say anything, but not for lack of trying. It just seems like she’s lost the ability to speak. 

“We… we need to find Heidi,” Red says, fighting to keep her voice even. “We need to make sure she’s okay.”

“How the fuck would she be okay if this is what happened to her parents?” Nichole whispers back. “We need to call the cops.”

“What are the cops going to do?” Red whips her head around. Her face is pale but her expression is stony. “We need to find Heidi. She would do the same for us. She would come find us.”

“Hang on,” Bebe says. “We can’t go in unarmed.”

She looks around for a weapon, but Tweek doesn’t see anything when he looks around too. She evidently finds something, though. She approaches the overturned swing, plants a foot on one of the beams and pulls hard until it comes out. It’s a rather flimsy looking metal pole, but it’ll do, Tweek supposes. Better in Bebe’s hands than his, anyway.

They enter the house, Red going in first, Bebe directly behind her, with the clump of Tweek, Wendy and Nichole coming in last. Tweek and Wendy are holding on to each other so tightly that Tweek can feel his arm falling asleep under Wendy’s death grip. 

When they all file in, Tweek gags at the smell and at the sight of Heidi’s parents up close. 

“Someone needs to go upstairs,” Bebe whispers, looking around. “And then someone needs to stay down here.”

“I’ll stay down here,” Red volunteers. She finds a bloodied knife sitting on a console table near the front door. “... as long as someone stays and looks around with me.”

Nichole detaches herself from Wendy’s other side. “I’ll stay.”

Bebe nods and reaches out her hand to Wendy. Wendy pauses for a moment, stares at it, then takes it gingerly. 

“We’ll go upstairs,” Bebe says. “You too, Tweek. Let’s see what we can find. Scream if we need each other.”

They all nod and Bebe tugs on Wendy’s hand a little to get her and Tweek moving. With the pole cocked in one hand, dragging Wendy with the other, she starts up the stairs.

They creak loudly under her feet, making Tweek cringe a little each time. The house is silent otherwise, and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“H-Heidi?” Bebe calls cautiously once they reach the top of the stairs. There aren’t any lights on up here either, but the light of the moon is shining through the hallway window and illuminating the entry points for the darkened rooms leading from the landing. 

Silence.

Bebe leads them into the first room on the left, Heidi’s room. The three of them separate and Tweek grabs his phone, turning on his flashlight. As the room is dimly lit up, he spots a journal sitting on the desk. 

He hesitates, wanting to respect his friends privacy, but curiosity gets the better of him. He reasons that he might be able to find something about where she is. Might be able to help her. 

He opens to a random page, shining the light directly over it. Bebe and Wendy take notice and peer over his shoulder. 

_ We still haven’t been able to make any breakthroughs on the patient. And it seems that maybe they’re beginning to become resistant to the sedative. We aren’t sure what to do with this case. _

_ The progression of symptoms overtime include: _

  * _Jaundice, with the skin turning from yellow to gray over the span of a few days._


  * Gums receding, but somehow the teeth stay intact. I can see the roots when I look into the mouth.


  * Obvious, but the taste for flesh seems to intensify.


  * The smell of decay comes around the third or fourth day.



_ It took this patient six days from time of death to time of reanimation. The longest time span in any of our patients. Typical time is less than six hours. This case is an outlier.  _

The entry ends there. Tweek flips a few pages to an entry from that same day.

_ Feeling terrible. My stomach hurts. I scratched my face today and some skin came off. I could hardly believe it. I was overwhelmed by the urge, I couldn’t fight it. I put the skin in my mouth. And I ate it. _

_ It didn’t taste like anything.  _

_ But I’m just so hungry… _

Tweek screams and closes the book, pushing it away as though it’s burning his hand.

“Fuck! Jesus Christ!” he wails. “Guys, I think something is seriously wrong with Heidi!”

Bebe and Wendy look equally terrified. “What do you think it is?” Bebe asks, her voice barely above a whisper. 

The silence left after her question is cut through by a shrill cry from downstairs. 

“It’s Nichole!” Wendy exclaims and the three of them run back out of the room to the sounds of more screaming from not just Nichole, but Red as well. 

They can hear thumping and a gnashing noise as they barrel down the stairs. They can’t find Red, Nichole or the body of Heidi’s mother. There’s a trail of dark blood leading into the kitchen.

“Oh no!” Tweek starts. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh NO!”

He knows what’s going on. He doesn’t need to go into the kitchen to see the disembodied torso of Mrs.Turner snapping at Nichole and Red who are up on the counters, clutching each other for dear life to know what’s going on. The sight doesn’t surprise him, but shocks him to his core.

Mrs. Turner is trying her best to climb up the counter, bits of her skin and hair falling off each time she scrapes the knobs on the cabinet. She’s making an ungodly growling noise, spewing blood everywhere. 

In the blink of an eye, Bebe has whacked Mrs. Turner over the head, and what’s left of her body goes limp on the floor. Bebe grunts as she lifts up the body with her pole and uses all her strength to fling it across the room. 

Nichole and Red let out loud sighs of relief and slide down from the counter. Tweek checks them both up and down, but both appear unscathed. He relaxes.

“What’s next?” Red asks. 

“We’re getting the fuck out of here, first of all.” Bebe sounds firm. “Heidi isn’t here. And if her dad wakes up too, we need to be far away. Dude was scary enough when he was alive, I don’t wanna see him undead.”

They all agree and hastily leave the house, closing the door behind them. Tweek feels bad just leaving the bodies of the Turners there, all mutilated and bloodied, but he’s not sure what else to do. 

The group gets back into Nichole’s car. As Nichole drives slowly around town, they all keep their eyes open for any signs of Heidi. Tweek looks for blood; he has a feeling that he knows what happened to her parents, even though he doesn’t like it. 

They’ve been driving for over half an hour now, with no clues that might lead them to Heidi. They consider going back to her house and just calling the police, but then Tweek spots her hat near the path to Stark’s Pond. 

Nichole pulls over and they all get out of the car. Bebe still has her pole; she slings it over her shoulder and they approach the path in fear. 

When they get to the hat laying alone on the ground, Tweek picks it up. 

“It’s covered in blood,” he says grimly, holding it up to display it. Unlike the blood in the house, this blood is fresh, bright red. “She might be hurt.”

They follow the path to Stark’s Pond, led by blood droplets against the grass. It’s not much, but it’s a better trail than nothing. 

As they get closer, they start to see the fresh footprints made in the mud. Bebe, who is leading the group, puts her hand out behind her to slow them down.

“We should be careful,” she says quietly. “We don’t know what to expect.”

Slower than before, the group presses on silently. Once clear of a patch of trees, they can see a figure standing in front of the water, not moving. 

It’s Heidi. She’s standing stock still, her hair not even moving when the wind blows.

It’s a sight that makes Tweek sick to his stomach. 

The group crouches behind a large bush, peeking out just enough to keep Heidi in their sights. 

“What’s the plan?” Nichole whispers. “This is creeping me out, big time.”

“What is she doing?” Bebe asks. She grips the pole tightly enough for her knuckles to turn white. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like this. Something about this… isn’t right.”

Tweek sucks in a breath. “Guys, I think… I think Heidi might have been doing some testing on herself. Have you seen her since she got here? She… she looks sick. And her journal… I think she infected herself.”

“I was thinking she got bit,” Wendy adds. “Either way, this is really dangerous. What are we doing here, what are we hoping to achieve?”

“I just want to talk to her,” Tweek says. He feels surprisingly calm. He supposes that it’s just from his anxiety being launched into overdrive. “Just… just watch my back.”

Before the girls can protest, he straightens up and walks around the bush to approach Heidi. She doesn’t react to his presence. 

“Hey,” he says. He stops right beside her, looking out at the pond as well. He can hear her breathe in through her nose.

“Hey.” Her tone is measured, but there’s something uncomfortable behind it. “You found me.”

“I found you.” Something tells him it’s better not to mention the girls. “I… I found your parents too. What happened?”

Heidi looks up in one fluid motion. “That was… me. But I’m sure you figured that out.”

“What’s going on, Heidi?”

When Heidi looks at him, it takes every fibre of his being not to jump back and scream. Her face is dirty, covered in dry blood. Under the blood, it’s a charcoal colour, though Tweek hopes it’s just because it’s dark out. Her cheeks have sunken in and many parts of her face and neck are missing flesh. His eye twitches trying to contain himself. 

“I think you know, Tweek,” she replies. “I made sure to detail everything in my journal.”

“I… well, I looked in it, but I don’t know what to think.”

Heidi sighs. “Before I came back to South Park, I got bitten. I’ve been testing the cures on myself, but nothing’s working. I’ve been able to put off the inevitable for a whole month, but I know my body can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to turn, Tweek. That’s why I’m here now.”

Tweek doesn’t get it at first, but then he clues in. “You’re going to…”

“Make sure I don’t turn, yes,” Heidi finishes. “I just wanted to see Stark’s Pond one last time.”

“Hey, remember in the summer before high school? When we all came here?” Tweek almost cracks a smile at the memory. “And we all raced boats?”

“I still don’t know how you managed to tip yours.” Heidi’s gaze is back on the pond, the ghost of her own smile starting to form. “And also three other boats.”

“Craig kept rocking our boat.” Tweek huffs a laugh. “It wasn’t entirely my fault.”

“And somehow, you two still won.” 

“Well, everyone else was in the water, so of course we won. Listen, Heidi… you don’t have to do this, you know. I’m sure you could find another way to… uh… get better.”

She shakes her head. “This is how it has to be. I knew a month ago that this is how this would end. There’s nothing we can do, Tweek. I can’t live like this anymore. The future doesn’t hold anything good. You need to realize that.”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know what to say. He just reaches for Heidi’s clammy, calloused hand and squeezes it tightly. He hopes it brings her comfort. 

Without taking her eyes off the water, Heidi calls out, “Bebe, can you come over too?”

Tweek’s heart stops for a moment as he hears the bushes behind them rustle. Bebe appears on the other side of Heidi, her pole badly hidden behind her back. Heidi notices it. 

“Oh, good, you brought it.” Her tone is yet again flat and monotone. “Bebe, I know this is a lot to ask, but I need you to kill me.”

Bebe jumps a little, staring at Heidi disbelievingly. She catches Tweek’s eye, and he’s sure he looks just as bewildered as she does. It’s strange to hear the request being put so bluntly and without any buffering.

“Um, excuse me?” she says. 

“If you don’t kill me soon, I’m going to turn. And I don’t want to turn. Because if I turn, I will try to eat you. And I really don’t want to go through that, even if I’m dead.”

Bebe’s mouth is open slightly. She still doesn’t reply. 

“Oh, and make sure that you get me in the head so I can’t come back after you kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Heidi,” Bebe says. “None of us are going to do that.”

Heidi frowns slightly. “I really would like it if you did that for me. I don’t think I can do it myself.”

“I’m not going to let you do that, either!” Bebe retorts loudly. “Heidi, you can figure this out, I know you can!”

Tweek can’t decide what he thinks of the situation. On one hand, he sympathizes with Heidi and her plight. He can’t imagine the pain she must be in, especially as he looks at her face and the pieces of skin missing. On the other hand, he doesn’t want her to die. He doesn’t want to lose Heidi. 

But as he looks at the hurt expression on her face, he makes up his mind. 

“I… I’ll do it.”

Both Heidi and Bebe turn to look at him now. Bebe looks horrified; Heidi’s face is devoid of emotion but somehow conveys gratefulness. She uses Bebe’s momentary lapse in attention to grab the pole out of her hands and thrusts it at Tweek, stepping in between the two of them in the same motion so Bebe can’t try to take it back. 

“Tweek, no!” Bebe cries, trying to grab around Heidi’s body, but Heidi is still quick and blocks her each time. 

He clutches the pole tightly in both hands, staring at it as his knuckles go as white as Bebe’s did. 

He doesn’t know where the sudden strength comes from, he just knows he has to do it before he can change his mind. In a surprisingly fluid motion, he cocks the pole up behind him and brings it down directly onto Heidi’s head with all his might.

As if it’s in slow motion, she falls to the ground, crumpling in on herself. Blood pools on the ground under her head. 

She doesn’t even make a sound.

Tweek drops the pole and then falls to his knees beside her, his hands shaking hard as he brings them up to his face, wailing into his palms. They’re shaking so bad, in fact, it feels like he’s slapping himself every time they come into contact with his skin, quickly getting wet with tears as the reality of his situation sinks in.

Bebe is beside him in seconds, followed by the other girls. They don’t say anything, don’t try to reason. They just comfort him until he’s ready.

“I-I-I killed H-Heidi,” he says eventually, his voice watery and barely comprehensible. “Oh my God, I’m a fu-fucking monster, I c-can’t believe it…”

“It’s what she wanted,” Wendy says soothingly, her cheek against his back as she wraps her arms around his middle. “It… it had to be done, Tweek.” 

As the girls begin to open the floodgates of comforting words and tears of their own, Tweek begins to feel the edges of the world go black, fuzzy. His head goes limp. 

He doesn’t know how he got home; he vaguely hears Nichole’s car doors opening and closing far off in the distance, but when he wakes up again, he’s back in his bed. Someone has changed his blood stained clothes and replaced them with freshly washed pajamas. 

He blinks a few times and reality re-orients itself. 

He wishes the girls didn’t leave. He doesn’t want to be alone. But what can he do? It’s just past midnight. He can’t call Craig. 

He instead sends a message to the next most likely person in his phone that would come to his house past midnight. He doesn’t receive a reply, but something tells him he doesn’t need one.

A knock on the window reinforces that thought. He gets up, crosses the room to the window, and lets a slightly confused looking Kenny in. 

“Is everything okay, dude?” he asks, softly touching Tweek’s shoulder. “I’ve never been your midnight booty call before. You couldn’t wait for Craig to smarten the fuck up and come over? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally down but - “

Tweek cuts him off. “I did something bad, Kenny.”

Understatement of the year, but he doesn’t want to go in too hard too fast.

“What did you do?” Kenny asks with a frown, but his voice is soft. He puts his hand on Tweek’s back and guides him to the bed, where they sit down beside each other. He doesn’t move his hand. It’s comforting.

“Okay, don’t say anything until you get the whole story.” Tweek looks at Kenny, who nods at him to continue. “Okay. I was at Bebe’s, and we realized H-Heidi was missing. So we w-went to look for her. We got to her house and her parents… oh, God, her parents were absolutely torn to shreds. They were infected. Her mom tried to eat Red and Nichole, but Bebe k-killed her. Heidi wasn’t there, so we drove around till we found her. 

She was at S-Stark’s Pond. Ready to… ready to die. Because she got bitten a m-month ago, and was testing cures on herself. She couldn’t live anymore. So… so…. Kenny… Kenny, I k-killed He… H-Heidi.”

Kenny folds his lips into his mouth and looks at the floor. Tweek starts to sweat; maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. 

“It sounds like you did what you had to do.” Kenny’s voice is quiet, serious. “If it had to be done... it’s better to have been done by a friend, you know?”

Tweek’s eyes start brimming with tears. “I’m a terrible person.”

He’s enveloped in Kenny’s arms barely a second later, pushed up the bed so his head can be laid softly on the pillow. Kenny is warm beside him, his arms grounding Tweek and soothing his pounding heart. 

“You did the right thing,” Kenny says into his hair. “There was no way that Heidi could have gone on the way she was, with a bite and all those shots that haven’t been proven. She did so much for us, and you did something so big for her. It’s okay, Tweek. It’ll all be okay.”

Tweek can’t help but start crying into Kenny’s chest; he gets pulled in closer in response. He wraps his arms around Kenny, looping them under the baggy sweater Kenny’s wearing over his t-shirt. 

“It’s not going to be okay,” he wails, his words slightly muffled. “How many more times am I going to have to do this, Kenny? How many more people are going to have to die? How many am I going to have to k-kill?”

He continues to babble, moving his head around constantly and soaking Kenny’s shirt as he cries. Kenny continues to comfort him, rubbing his back and not saying anything. It doesn’t take long for Tweek to cry himself out. 

When he does, Kenny rolls him slightly so his head isn’t buried in the shirt anymore. He wipes the tears from Tweek’s eyes and from his cheek, leaving his hand there even when Tweek’s face is dry. 

“You’re very brave,” he says softly, leaning his forehead on Tweek’s. “And, yeah, this might be something we run into again, and you might have to kill someone. But, Tweek, I’ll be here, I promise. I’ll always be here.”

He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone like Kenny. Kenny, who is always around, always with a word of comfort, never questioning. Probably Tweek’s greatest friend. His friendship with Kenny has always been so uncomplicated and free of any doubt. 

As Kenny holds him, he thinks of his other friends. Even Kyle, his next best friend, doesn’t have as easy of a relationship with him. Stan is Stan. The girls always have too much drama; Craig’s gang always seemed like they just reluctantly accepted him.

And Craig… well, his friendship with Craig is currently non-existent. But even at their best, Tweek isn’t sure that Craig would be able to offer him the same unconditional support that Kenny is giving him right now. 

And, of course, Craig has always wanted to protect Tweek, but he’s never gone about it the right way. Kenny understands what Craig never has: that Tweek can take care of himself. Craig’s go-to is to try to shield Tweek from everything, but Kenny is always just quietly there whenever Tweek needs him. 

Their noses touch, and something in Tweek’s stomach clenches. He remembers being with Craig like this, albeit with less clothes on, of course. It feels strange now to be wrapped up in someone else’s arms, but not unpleasant. He knows he’s safe.

“Thank you, Kenny,” he says, a little hoarsely. “You know, y-you’re my best friend.”

Kenny smirks. “Better than Craig?”

“Better than Craig.”

“Never thought I’d hear that.” Kenny looks like he’s proud of himself. “But I have to ask… is this something friends do?”

“Is what something friends do?”

Kenny removes the hand still resting on Tweek’s cheek to gesture at their two bodies. He returns the hand, but it lands softly on Tweek’s waist instead. Tweek considers this for a moment. 

“I don’t think so, but maybe it should be.” And he means it. He really likes cuddling. 

Kenny licks his lips. “I think you might be missing my point, Tweek.”

“I-I think I might be missing your point too,” Tweek admits. He hadn’t even realized that Kenny was trying to make a point. 

Kenny smiles patiently. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“... Get to the point, Kenny.” Although, the way Kenny is looking at him now, Tweek has a feeling that he knows what that point is. He wants Kenny to say it. “If it’s… applicable… you could always just show me.”

Kenny’s hand once again finds its way to Tweek’s cheek. He lifts the palm for a moment to kiss the skin beneath it. His lips leave Tweek’s face burning. 

“That’s it?” Tweek asks, feigning innocence. He can’t figure out what he wants right now, but he does know he won’t know until he lets it play out, at least a little.

Kenny smirks. “Hadn’t really considered you could be so bold.”

He thinks of Craig for a moment, but the image of the stoic man only rests behind his eyes for mere seconds before disappearing; the blonde laying in front of him now is something completely different. 

Is he over Craig? He considers this, decides he’s definitely not. But… that doesn’t really matter right now.

Kenny’s hand is flat against his face once more, fingers curling around the side of his cheek. He kisses Tweek’s nose, his forehead and then…

He leans in, but Tweek is faster. He propels himself upwards, his lips meeting Kenny’s halfway. They’re much softer than he had been expecting, and Kenny is gentle and doesn’t put any force behind his kiss. 

Maybe this is wrong, maybe Tweek shouldn’t be kissing Kenny, especially after such a traumatic night. Maybe he’s making the worst decision of his life. 

But maybe, just maybe, he’s not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This broke my heart to write. I knew I had to for a while, but it was still hard. Sweet Heidi <3
> 
> Also. Here's some Twenny. I promise this is still a Creek story, but dudes, it's far from over. You will get your Creek in time. 
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I named chapters, this would be called "Craig's Very Own Chapter" (even though it's literally all about Tweek lol)

“You ever gonna stop being a little bitch and come out of your room? Mom made dinner.”

Craig turns his attention from the ceiling to his sister, who’s barged into his room without even knocking. She’s leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed and sour-faced. He narrows his eyes at her.

“Not hungry,” is all he says in response. He looks back up at the ceiling, resuming his stewing. 

Craig usually doesn’t stew. He’s a little surprised he’s doing it right now. But ever since he walked away from Tweek… he can’t think of much else. He feels terrible. He wishes he hadn’t acted like Tweek couldn’t protect himself. It’s just… at the sight of Tweek in danger, Craig panicked. 

And besides, in this instance, Tweek _couldn’t_ protect himself. Like it or not, Tweek needed him.

But why can't Tweek just understand that? Craig would never do anything to hurt Tweek, and he would never let anything hurt him either. He just wants Tweek to feel safe.

“Bullshit,” Tricia says. “You haven’t eaten in three days, fuckface. Come get a goddamn plate of mashed potatoes before you starve to death.”

“Since when do you care if I starve to death?” Craig asks, but he doesn’t care about her answer in the slightest. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

Tricia huffs in annoyance. “Craig, I swear to God, if I have to listen to mom moan about how you’re depressed and not eating one more fucking time, I’m going to swallow a knife. Go eat dinner.”

"I said I'm not hungry, asshole, so go away."

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ Craigory Tucker, you're literally the worst person I know." She's entering his room now, practically stomping over to him on his bed. He expects her to try to lift him out of bed or something (which, honestly, she probably can) but to his surprise, she sits down beside him, facing the opposite wall. 

"What are you doing?" he asks suspiciously, refusing to look at her the way she refuses to look at him.

"This is about Tweek, isn't it?" When he doesn't answer right away, she takes a deep breath. "If this is about Tweek, and you're this upset, I know for a fact you can't talk to Clyde or Jimmy, because talking about Tweek pisses them off. They miss him. Token doesn't give a flying fuck about your personal life, he's jealous that you have someone to be upset over. Have I gotten it right so far?"

Craig is taken aback, but honestly a little impressed. Tricia is more perceptive than he's ever given her credit for. "Actually… yeah."

"I thought so. I can't help you with the guys, but I want to help you make it right with Tweek."

"Why do you care so much about me and Tweek?" He rolls in bed and props his cheek up on the palm of his hand to look at her. He's never understood her fascination with his relationship and with Tweek in general.

She turns slightly to look back at him. Her expression is softer than he's ever seen it. "I know how much you and Tweek care about each other. How happy you make each other. You're always just… better when you're with him. And I like it when you're happy. I guess."

"Who are you and what have you done with my sister?" He wrinkles my nose. "You're not my sister."

She smacks him lightly. "Shut the fuck up, I'm trying to have a moment. You're my brother, and I hate you ninety nine percent of the time, but the other one percent still deserves to be with the person he loves."

Craig is pleasantly surprised by this turn of events. Who would have thought that his twerpy little sister actually gave a shit about him? And wanted him to be happy, even? It feels strange, but he's glad for it.

"I don't think I deserve Tweek," he replies honestly. "I think I fucked everything up. I was just trying to protect him."

He explains the events of earlier that week, emphasizing that Tweek was in immediate danger with no way out. Tricia sighs.

"He's being dramatic," she says. She's now moved up fully onto the bed and is sitting with her legs crossed, the two siblings fully facing each other. "I would be too, probably, after all that. Have you tried talking to him now that he's had time to calm down?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know what to say."

"Tell him what you told me," she replies simply. "Tell him you were scared. That you didn't know if he would be able to find a way out and survive. Acknowledge that he can take care of himself, but he has to learn to accept help from others sometimes too. He did the exact same thing you did by running out to save Kyle and Heidi. I'm sure he doesn't think that they're weak or can't handle themselves, he just saw two people he loves in danger and had to do something."

Craig hates how logical she's being when he spent three whole days wallowing and the thought never even crossed his mind. 

"Since when do you know so much about this kind of thing?"

Tricia laughs. "I just know, okay? Now that we're gotten that all figured out. Go eat some fucking mashed potatoes, dickbag."

*~*~*~

It was a little strange of Clyde to invite everyone for lunch in town, but here they all are, the four of them crammed together at a small table in Freeman's Tacos, elbow to elbow as they awkwardly eat their food.

Jimmy is the first to comment. "So, to what do we owe the p-p-pleasure, Clyde?"

Clyde wipes his mouth, a very un-Clyde like gesture that has Craig looking at him suspiciously. He's either up to something, or is about to dramatically announce something that likely isn't even worth bringing up. 

"I met a girl yesterday." Ah, so it's the latter. Craig rolls his eyes. 

"And you decided that we need to all go out for lunch to announce this to us… why, exactly?" he asks, already bored with whatever answer Clyde is going to make up. 

"Because she's special, _Craig,_ " Clyde replies. Token shakes his head in disappointment.

"I can't believe I'm missing a video conference for this…" he says as he puts his face into his palms. "You met her _yesterday_ , dude, what on Earth would make you think this time it'll be any different?"

Clyde looks a little offended. "It just… feels like it's different, you know?"

The other three collectively groan. They've had this conversation before, many times. Clyde has no problem finding a girl to talk to, he's quite handsome even by Craig's strict standards, but he's an absolute moron and messes it up every single time. Craig's been around for this cycle more times than he cares to remember. 

“W-w-what does she look like?” Jimmy asks in an attempt to placate Clyde by thinking he’s interested in what he has to say.

Clyde excitedly pulls out his phone, knocking elbows with both Token and Craig, who grumble at him. He swipes through a few times and proudly holds the phone up, displaying a photo of a woman who would _definitely_ not be talking to Clyde, on account of being one of the Victoria’s Secret models (not that Craig knew that... )

“...That’s a catfish,” he says bluntly. Clyde’s face falls.

“No, no it’s not!” he insists. “She’s real! Her name is Lucy and she’s from North Park…”

For the love of God...

"I don't really want to be a part of this," Craig says dismissively. He's almost done his burrito anyway. "I'm going to go see if Tweek is working."

He stands up, pushing his chair back with his legs. Token looks at him curiously.

"I thought you guys were fighting?"

Craig flips him off. "None of your business. Dunno why you'd care, anyway."

"Probably because your r-relationship with Tweek has more p-p-potential than Clyde's bullcrap," Jimmy says. "And honestly, it would b-be nice to have Tweek a-a-a… hang out with us more often."

Huh. So Tricia was right. Imagine that.

"Yeah, I kinda miss the little guy," Clyde chimes in. Craig frowns. 

"He's taller than you, dipshit." 

"Yeah, but I'm four months older." 

"Okay, you fucking three year old." Craig turns to leave. "See you all later."

"Actually, I think I want a coffee," Token says unexpectedly, getting up from the table as well. "Jim, Clyde, you want one?"

Craig lets out a frustrated sigh as apparently Jimmy and Clyde _do_ also want a coffee. He crosses his arms and waits for them, despite the spontaneous nature of their trip.

Not really what he had planned, but he supposes he'll work with it. 

The four of them exit the restaurant and head down the street towards the playground. Clyde babbles about his stupid new girlfriend. Craig tunes him out. 

They're just about to cross the street, Tweek Bros is in view, when a familiar laugh fills the air around them. Craig moves his gaze to the intersection by the movie theater, where he spots Tweek. He's glad for a split second before he realizes who's walking with their arm slung around his shoulders.

"Uh oh," Jimmy says from beside him. "That's not what I ex-ex-expected to see."

Crossing the street with Tweek is fucking Kenny McCormick. The perpetual wrench in Craig's machine. The most annoying person on the planet. He narrows his eyes, purses his lips tightly.

What really bothers him though, is how _happy_ Tweek looks. He's giggling at something, his cheeks have a bright blush on them. 

What the fuck is he supposed to do now? They're coming down the sidewalk parallel to Craig's group, and Craig hasn't even been able to move from the curb. 

Without thinking, he shrinks away from the edge of the sidewalk until he backs up into the brick of the Photo Dojo. He grabs Token and Clyde by their shoulders roughly, dragging them back with him and putting his arms around both of them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Clyde asks. Craig squeezes his arm hard. 

"Just shut the fuck up and go with it," he replies. Jimmy aligns himself on Clyde's other side. 

They look cool, Craig is sure of it. Super cool.

"...have you ever tried soy milk? It's not that good, I don't know why people like it so much." Tweek and Kenny's conversation can be heard clearly now as they approach the next crosswalk. "Oh, hang on, Ken, my mom is calling me."

Craig watches Tweek pull out his phone while he and Kenny cross the street. Fucking Kenny doesn't even move his arm to let Tweek get the phone out more easily. Idiot.

"Hey mom. What? Oh, yeah, I can do that. No, it's fine. I was going to get some lunch with Kenny, but we can do that later. Yes. Yes. No, I don't think you left the coffee pot on at home but I will check. Yes, mom. Okay. You too. Bye."

By the time Tweek's conversation is over, he and Kenny are almost immediately in front of Craig. He tries his best to look cool.

"Hey, Tweek," he calls, pulling Token and Clyde in even closer. "McCormick."

Tweek looks up. The sun hits Tweek's blue eyes just right and… damn. Craig almost loses his obviously-super-badass demeanor right in front of everyone. Tweek gives him a small smile. 

"Hi Craig," he says. He looks at Token and Clyde, who have painted on uncomfortable smiles, in slight confusion. "Uh… hi guys."

"Hey, Tweek," Token says, his voice pinched as Craig puts more and more pressure on his shoulder. "What's up, buddy?"

Tweek's eyes dart suspiciously between the four of them leaning against the building. "Not much. Just going home to put some laundry on. What's… um… what's up with you guys?"

Damn, this is backfiring spectacularly. Craig doesn’t know what he expected. 

Clyde is about to answer, probably to start telling Tweek about his stupid new girlfrined, when Tweek’s name is called. 

It’s Mrs. Tweak, standing on the sidewalk outside of Tweek Bros with her arms crossed.

“It doesn’t look like you’re going home to put the laundry on,” she calls across the street. Tweek rolls his eyes. 

“I’m on my way, mom!” he yells back. He turns to Kenny now; Craig watches with narrowed eyes and a scowl. “Might have to wait a bit for lunch.”

Craig purses his lips as Kenny shrugs easily. “I can just go get it and bring it to your place.”

“What are you getting?” Craig butts in without thinking. “Hey, why don’t we join you?”

“Craig we just ate - _ooph…”_ Clyde gets a bony elbow in the ribs from Craig as soon as he opens his mouth. “I mean… yeah, we’d love to join you. I… haven’t eaten all day.”

“T-t-the more the m-m-m-m… better,” Jimmy supplies. “More hands makes quick work.”

“I can drive you!” Token says, gesturing towards his car parked across the street. Craig gives him a small nod. Acceptable. 

Tweek looks between the others again, bemused. “We were going to get some spaghetti.”

“With a side of pesto?” When Tweek looks at Craig, there’s something Craig can’t quite place in his eyes as he nods. Tweek has _always_ taken a side of pesto with his spaghetti, for the meatballs. It’s almost like he’s surprised Craig remembers. 

“I mean… it’s up to you guys,” Tweek says, looking nervously in the direction of the bus stop. “I can meet you at my house.”

“I’ll come with you,” Craig volunteers immediately. “Get me a fettuccine alfredo, or whatever. I don’t really care.”

He catches Tweek’s eye once again. Tweek looks curious. “Okay,” he says. “Better get going.”

Kenny releases his hold of Tweek’s shoulder. He doesn’t look bothered in the slightest. 

“Well,” he says, turning to Token, Jimmy and Clyde, “let’s head over. I’m not paying for you guys, though, just so you know. Token, that’s all you, buddy.”

The four of them make their way across the street to Token’s car. Craig turns to Tweek. 

“Let’s go,” he says. He considers offering his arm for Tweek to hold, but something stops him. They just had a fight. He needs to apologize first. Stupid.

Tweek is still looking at him with a strange look, but they walk towards the bus stop anyway, silently. 

As they turn the corner and head onto their street, Tweek speaks up.

“I’m sorry I told you to fuck off the other day,” he says, almost shyly. “I didn’t mean it.”

Craig shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. He figured he would have to apologize first. 

“I didn’t take it personally.” He genuinely hopes that Tweek doesn’t see through that lie. He doesn’t want to have to explain all the stewing he did. 

They get to Tweek’s house, once more silent. 

“Can you get the hamper from my room?” Tweek asks, gesturing for Craig to follow him up the stairs. “I’ll get my parents. Might as well just bring them both down at the same time.”

Craig does as he’s told and enters Tweek’s room to take the hamper. The bed is unmade, a sight Craig isn’t used to seeing in this room. A shirt Craig has never seen before that looks too big for Tweek is draped over the chair. He frowns at it. 

Is it Kenny’s? What would Kenny’s shirt be doing in Tweek’s room?

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the jealousy he suddenly feels. Kenny and Tweek are friends. Kenny’s allowed to leave his shit in Tweek’s room. And besides, Craig has no right to be jealous. Not like Tweek’s still his boyfriend.

But… he can’t help it. He’s jealous as hell. 

It takes a lot of effort to not kick the chair over and stomp all over Kenny’s shirt. He picks up the laundry hamper with more force than necessary and stomps down the stairs, just catching Tweek as he turns the corner to the basement. He follows closely down the wooden stairs, slamming the hamper down beside Tweek. 

Tweek chooses to ignore that, evidently. 

“I don’t have much,” he says, peeking into his hamper. “I’ll put mine in first and then my parents. Can you get me a laundry pod?”

Craig peels his eyes off Tweek and sulks over to the other side of the basement to the shelves on the wall, grabbing a laundry pod. When he makes his way back over with it, he pauses when he sees Tweek. 

He’s pulled a shirt out of his hamper and is just staring at it. Craig isn’t sure why at first, but then he realizes that the shirt is full of blood.

“Tweek, what…” he starts, but he notices the vacant expression on Tweek’s face, the way he’s swaying slightly in place. “Tweek?”

Tweek doesn’t answer. His face is blank. He doesn’t make a sound. Craig places the laundry pod gently on the washing machine (he doesn't want to lose it and make Tweek think he didn't get one in the first place) and tugs the shirt out of Tweek's hands. 

It's disgusting, if Craig is being honest. He's touched a lot of gross shit in his time, but nothing like this shirt. It's literally _covered_ in blood, all stiff yet somehow goopy at the same time. Some unknown gray matter mixes in with the larger blood clots, and Craig doesn't want to know what it is. He drops it immediately, not knowing where to wipe his hands. He looks down at them, covered in gross dried blood, and eventually settles on discreetly picking up another piece of Tweek's laundry to try to clean them.

Once his hands aren't so fucking _nasty_ anymore, he reaches out to Tweek, who still isn't moving, staring at the ground with an empty face.

"Tweek?" Craig says softly, cautiously. He knows better than to startle Tweek when he's having an episode. "Honey?"

Tweek says nothing, does nothing. 

"Babe, you're scaring me." He gingerly places his hands on each of Tweek's arms, running them down until they find the other set of hands. He laces his fingers with Tweek's, a gesture that typically calms the other, but seems like it isn't doing anything now. 

Now he's really worried. 

He's still trying to get Tweek to even just move a little, when the door upstairs opens. He only half registers it, but definitely notices the voice. 

"Tweek? You guys still downstairs? Wow, that's a lot of laundry. It's just me, wouldn't you know it, the guys drove me to the restaurant, dropped me off here, and then drove away. Can you believe that?"

Craig doesn't realize that Kenny is coming down the stairs until the footsteps stop suddenly. 

"Oh, fuck."

Craig looks wildly over at the blonde on the stairs, who isn't looking back at him, or even Tweek, but is looking at the floor.

"The fucking shirt. Fuck. Dude, I asked him if anyone washed it, and he said Wendy and the girls did, I had no idea no one washed it -"

Craig cuts him off. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Kenny's eyes now dart between the bloody, disgusting shirt on the floor, then Craig, then Tweek, then back to the shirt.

"Fuck. This… this is pretty bad."

Craig looks at Kenny in disbelief. "You fucking think so? What the hell is even all over this, anyway? Is this real blood?"

"Mm, yeah, probably some brain matter too," Kenny says. Craig feels his eyes bulging out of their sockets at how casually Kenny could say something like that. "... but that's not important right now. Did he see it?"

"What?"

"Did Tweek see the shirt?" Kenny is now clear of the stairs and is standing beside the other two, but he doesn't reach out for Tweek as Craig expected him to.

"Obviously he saw the fucking shirt, dude."

Kenny bites his lip. "This is a problem."

Craig is about to burst out at the obviousness of that statement, but Kenny angles himself beside Tweek and easily hoists him up over his shoulder, giving Craig something else to comment on.

"The fuck are you doing?"

Kenny grunts a little as he shifts Tweek and starts up the stairs. "Put the laundry on and then come upstairs."

"I'm not putting the laundry on, asshole, what do I look like?" Craig is offended. 

"You look like a guy who's about to put the laundry on, Craig," Kenny shoots back as he disappears at the top landing.

Craig grumbles, but he does put the laundry on. When he's finished, he follows after Kenny upstairs, finding them in the living room. Tweek has been laid out on the couch and Kenny is pacing back and forth.

"Okay, are you going to explain to me what the fuck is going on now?" Craig asks, sitting beside Tweek on the couch. He snakes his hand into Tweek's again.

"It's going to take a lot more than me trying to explain this to you for you to understand what actually happened," Kenny replies. "What happened was really complicated and I don't think I should be the one to explain it to you."

Craig is suddenly very nervous as he takes in the expression on Kenny's face and the way he's pacing around the living room. "I don't know what that's supposed to mean, dude, you wanna stop being so fucking cryptic for two seconds?"

"I can't tell you anything," Kenny says, emphasizing every word. "Tweek told me this the other night in confidence and I can't just tell you what he told me if he doesn't know that I'm about to tell you what he told me."

"Kenny, shut the fuck up. I don't know what's going on, but this is really fucked up, dude. Is he fucking dead? Is he going to be okay? Why did he tell you this shit but didn't say anything to me? Just makes no fucking sense, and you're an asshole."

Craig is starting to lose control a little. He hates it. He hates how easily Kenny can get under his skin by just mentioning something Tweek told him but not Craig. 

A dark chuckle comes from somewhere near the kitchen where Kenny is currently circling. "Trust me, Tucker, this isn't something that Tweek is just going to be parading around telling people."

"But it's _me."_ Craig knows this means nothing to an asshole like Kenny McCormick, but he can't help saying it. "I know everything."

Kenny appears again in the living room. He looks angry. "Craig, I know you don't like me, and I'm not very fond of you. But right now, I only care about Tweek, okay? This isn't my story to tell. I'm not just going to wait for him to come out of this only for him to find out that I told you everything."

"But what if he doesn't tell me?"

"Then he doesn't want you to know!" Kenny throws his arms up in the air. "How the fuck can one person be so goddamn stubborn?"

Craig chooses to ignore that.

After a few more minutes of Kenny pacing, Tweek starts to stir. He sits bolt upright.

"The laundry!" he exclaims. Craig moves a hand to his shoulder in an effort to comfort him.

"I did the laundry, honey," he says, intending on his voice sounding serene and soothing, but cringing as it comes out as monotone as ever. "Trust me, I saw your mom yell across half the town. I put the laundry on."

Tweek begins to relax. Kenny comes over with a cup of coffee that Craig hadn't even heard him make. He scowls as Tweek takes it gratefully, pissed off that he didn't think of that. 

Tweek returns to normal faster than Craig had expected. He's just about to eat his warmed up spaghetti when his cell phone begins to ring.

"Shit," he says, twitching so hard he drops his fork. "Craig, can you answer my phone? If it's my mom, tell her you put the laundry on, I'm sure she would love that."

Craig shoots a smug smile over at Kenny, who seems completely unbothered as he sits at the table with Tweek eating his own meal.

Fucker.

Craig doesn't even check the caller ID before lazily unlocking it and answering it.

"Hello?"

"Tweek, Tweek - fuck - dude, have you seen the news? Holy fuck. Jesus Christ."

Craig frowns. "Kyle?"

A pause. "...Craig? Where's Tweek?"

Craig looks over at Tweek, who is intently dipping a meatball into a large cup of pesto, completely uninterested in the fact that one of his best friends has called him practically screaming into the phone. His eyes soften. Cute little fucker.

"He's eating. Why, what's on the news?"

Kyle seems to hesitate, and Tweek looks up. Craig mouths Kyle's name, prompting Tweek to rise from his seat and head over. 

"Heidi Turner was found dead, dude. Heidi. Dead. They say she was murdered. What the fuck?"

Kyle is still talking on the other end, but Craig isn't listening. He's looking at Tweek, who has suddenly, suspiciously, turned white as a ghost. 

"...Tweek will call you back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be honest, it's 2:30AM and I have to work in 6 hours but I was on a fucking roll. Most of this was written on my phone, parts of it are not proofread. I'll go over it when I'm supposed to be working (God I love working from home). 
> 
> I hope things aren't moving too slowly! And I apologize that this is really Tweek-centered. I've been spending so much time trying to develop Tweek as a separate character from Craig that I forgot about poor Craig :( Once things progress, and the plot actually gets moving (I'm in this for the long haul) I promise I have some really good development ideas for him beyond him just flipping everyone off. I have ideas for most characters!! I'm having so much fun writing this, honestly, and I hope you'll let me know what you think :)
> 
> I also hope you like the unexpected *soft Tricia* because I LOVE HER
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

The night that Heidi Turner’s badly decomposed body is found by a jogger, City Hall is buzzing with activity. People running in and out of offices, talking in panicked whispers, unsure of their next moves.

In an office three doors down from Mayor McDaniels is the Deputy Mayor. Unlike the aides and lobbyists scurrying around trying to get information, he is sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his feet up. In stark contrast to his colleagues, he is relaxed, at ease.

Well, until something thumps below him. 

He rolls his eyes and brings his feet down on the secret trap door under him. He has no idea what this trap door was built for, or even for how long it's been there, but when he found it, he had all his things switched to this office, knowing he’d find a use for it someday.

Normally, it’s just full to the brim with snacks that he doesn’t want anyone to find. But today… the zombies from Heidi Turner’s basement are waking up from their sedation. 

“Can you guys, like, shut the fuck up?” he snaps at the door, knowing full well that they’re dead and can’t understand him. “You’re gonna get me caught, assholes.”

They do quiet down, so he throws his feet back up on his desk and leans back again. 

A quiet knock comes from his half open door, and the Mayor’s personal assistant, Johnson, lets himself in. 

“Sir, I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Johnson says. The young man narrows his eyes. He does  _ not _ like Johnson. “But Heidi Turner, the young woman who interned with the WHO has died. The Mayor has been informed that she was conducting research into the current epidemic. We’re trying to secure it now.”

“I’ve heard,” the Deputy Mayor replies. “A… tragedy, really.”

_ Thump. _

Shit.

Johnson frowns. He notices too. “Sir, what was that?”

“Wild animals in the walls, probably,” the young man replies without hesitation. “I’ve been trying to get an exterminator in here, but, well, you know how it’s been with the times lately. It’s hard to get a purchase order made up. And this place is so old. It’s a wonder we don’t have an entire infestation going on already.”

Johnson’s eyebrow quirks up, but if he’s suspicious, he says nothing. 

“We’re increasing security measures around the town, sir; Heidi had two of the undead in her basement for research purposes, and no one can find them.”

The young man does his best to look surprised. “Oh, really? Well, I hope they find them. How scary.”

“Yes, quite.” Johnson shifts his weight to his other leg. “We’re looking to increase security for you and the Mayor as well. Your house will have armed guards on it and you will have an escort for wherever you need to go. We will also provide you firearm lessons, if you want them.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll be needing that,” the young man replies, knowing full well his abilities with a gun are far better than most. “But thank you for the offer. And for all the extra security. It’s nice to know this government wants to keep us safe.”

The door rattles again. One of the zombies lets out a soft groan. 

Johnson frowns. “Sir, I’m going to fast track an exterminator for that. That must be… distracting.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I don’t mind. I have a soft spot for wild animals. Especially raccoons.”

~*~*~*

When Tweek was fourteen, his parents took him to see a hypnotist to get him to stop biting his nails. It was a nervous habit, and he did it to try to focus on something that wasn't an oncoming panic attack or the general sense of doom he always seemed to feel, and his mother had taken a look at his fingers one day and lost her mind.

It hurt when he bit them, but he didn't mind. The pain from ripping off a fresh nail or pressing down hard on a nub was a welcome distraction, and he came to rely on it so much that his fingers had begun to bleed everywhere.

The hypnosis worked wonders, and Tweek hadn't bitten his nails in almost seven years. But, apparently, it came with an expiration date because here he is now, standing in front of Craig after breaking down about Heidi Turner, tearing off his nails and gnawing at the cuticle when Craig doesn't say anything. His chest aches with the feeling of dread brewing inside of him. 

Craig has taken it rather well, Tweek thinks, even if he won’t say anything. He hasn’t stormed out or called the police right away, anyway.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Tweek admits, his voice gravelly. At some point, he’s sunk to the ground, his knees throbbing with the impact, ripping his skin off the tips of his fingers every time he stops talking. “Heidi was my f-friend. I know I did the right thing, Craig, but I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about her face. Her skin was all gray, falling off. She was dead already, no matter what I did. Every time I c-close my eyes… I see her. In my dreams. She’s everywhere, man. I did what I had to do.”

Craig is silent for a moment longer, then he draws in a long breath. “I’m proud of you, Tweek.”

Tweek is taken aback. Even Kenny stops slurping down Tweek’s dinner in surprise.

“You… you can protect yourself so much more than I ever thought,” Craig says. “That must have been a really hard decision, and I think you made the right one. You’re strong. Not many people could do something like that.”

“T-thanks, Craig.”

“I don’t know how to make the nightmares or the visions stop. But I just want you to know that I’ll do what I can to get you through this.”

“...you’ve been talking to Tricia, haven’t you?” The words coming out of Craig’s mouth sound  _ so  _ much like his sister, Tweek can hardly believe it. For a teenager, she’s more insightful than any of the adults in town, and every time Tweek sees her it’s almost like she can see right through him. “Do you actually think these things about me or is this just because you had to ask Tricia for advice?”

“Of course, Tweek, I meant everything I said.” Craig leans forward and takes Tweek’s hands out of his mouth. “I don’t know what I would have done in that situation.”

They look at each other, similar expressions on their faces. Tweek gives him a half smile.

"Thanks, Craig," he says. "I-I'm having a really hard time with this."

"I'm here for you, whenever you need me."

A contented sigh comes from the kitchen table, the sound of a plate being pushed across the table by Kenny. He’s eaten all of Tweek’s spaghetti. 

"So cute," he says as he gets up. "But I'm gonna dip. Better go calm Kyle down now before he has a heart attack over Heidi now that this crisis is over. Don’t forget your laundry, Tweek. Your mom might have a stroke if it’s not done."

Tweek looks over at Kenny, then to his empty plate, choosing to filter out any mention of Heidi. His stomach growls. Loudly. 

"I wish  _ someone  _ left my lunch alone," he comments, with a glare at Kenny. Kenny just grins and heads out the front door. Tweek struggles a little, but gets up from the floor and heads to the kitchen to see if his parents remembered groceries while buying all their toilet paper. He asks Craig if he wants anything. 

“I’ll just have some of whatever you make,” Craig replies. Tweek watches him as he settles into the couch, turning the TV on. “I know you don’t like the news, but I should probably check in on what’s going on.”

Tweek shrugs. “I just won’t listen.”

But Craig is fucking deaf apparently and the volume gets cranked up high, so Tweek can’t ignore it. He wrinkles his nose but prepares some sandwiches anyway, preferring to focus on the sounds he’s making in the kitchen. 

When he enters the living room again, Craig is glued to the TV. From what Tweek can gather, cities across the country have been shut down; the country descending into chaos.

“How are they still broadcasting if everywhere is taken over by zombies?” Tweek asks, handing Craig his plate. “Aren’t all these TV stations in big cities like Manhattan and L.A.?”

Craig shrugs and bites into his sandwich without hesitation. Tweek does the same, crossing his legs and placing his plate on his knee before digging in.

Craig finishes his sandwich before Tweek finishes his and begins flipping through channels, much to Tweek's ire. He can’t count how many times they used to fight about Craig doing this exact same thing. It drives Tweek crazy.

Even worse, when he does settle on a channel, it's another news station.

"...authorities estimate that the total number of deaths related to the virus may never be known, but so far, it's likely over three million worldwide. Experts are warning people to-"

Tweek drops his sandwich. Deli turkey falls out and lettuce spills all over his lap.

Three million people. 

Three  _ million _ deaths.

His eye twitches.

How many of those deaths have caused the person to reanimate? How many decaying zombies are wandering around the earth right now?

And then he remembers.

Heidi had two zombies in her basement. He didn't hear a peep from them the night he was at her house. Unless they were sedated, which he highly doubts Heidi was able to do given the state of her house and the fact that she had been gone long enough for her parents to turn, he should have heard them.

How long would it take two roided up zombies to pillage the town? Not long, he figures. 

Everything goes black.

*~*~*

"Since when was Heidi Turner even back in town?"

"I dunno, dude, she just kind of… showed up one day. Tweek told me she was back. And then I was literally just at her house the other day."

"I'm surprised she came back."

"Why?"

"Not like she had much going on for her here. Didn't she work for the WHO? Man. If I worked for the WHO, I'd never come back. Can you imagine how much money she made there? Fuck. I wouldn't even know what to do with it all."

"Well, luckily for you, the WHO would never take you, so you don't have to think too hard about it."

"... I promised Wendy I wouldn't be so reactive to things, so I'm not going to kick the shit out of you, but fuck you, dude. What were you doing in Heidi's house anyway?"

"She was showing me and Tweek some research she was doing on some zombies. She got attacked by a few of them so I had to save her."

"You didn't do shit, dude, Tweek had to save you with a coffee pot and then Craig had to take the rest of them out with a fucking tire iron. You weren't even wearing shoes."

"I was wearing sandals,  _ thank you, _ and I would have been just fine without Tweek and Craig, you know."

“Why the fuck did you think you could fight a zombie in your mom’s sandals, dude?”

“They were Ike’s!”

“Dude. That’s even worse. Ike is a teenager. Those sandals must be disgusting. You probably have foot fungus now. Athlete’s foot or something. Gonna have to cut it off.”

“My foot is fine!”

“Nah, I bet Ike has cleaner feet than you.  _ He’s  _ probably gotten athlete’s foot from you, you nasty - whoa, look at all this police tape.”

Three sets of footsteps stop on the hard ground as they near Stark’s Pond. They can’t even see the trail around the pond before they’re stopped by the thick yellow tape, spread excessively over the trees. Kenny grabs hold of a particularly chunky section and pulls it down, creating a hole small enough for him, Kyle and Stan to crawl through. 

It’s strange how still the air is around them; they’re used to the popular park being full of people, conversations mixing with their own. But now… it’s too quiet. The sun is just starting to set beyond the trees in the forest in the park and it’s creating eerie shadows all around them.

“This is fucking creepy,” Stan comments. “What are we doing here again?”

“Trying to see if we can find anything out about Heidi’s death,” Kyle replies. They press on through more police tape. “I just… guys, I think they’re not telling us everything. I think we need to find out what happened for ourselves. Heidi was doing a lot of really important research. This wasn’t random.”

Kenny’s eyes dart between his two friends. “Well… what if it was?”

“How can you even say that?” Kyle asks in disbelief. “Kenny, this wasn’t a coincidence. I just know it wasn’t. I  _ need _ to know.”

“Not everything is a conspiracy, Kyle.” Stan holds a branch out of the way so Kyle and Kenny can walk past it without being hit in the face. “You’ve been spending too much time with Tweek, dude.”

“Well, what do you think happened, Stan? Since you know so much?”

“...I don’t know.”

Kyle sneers back at his friend. The pond comes into sight and the three of them stop in their tracks when they see the body marker and ten uniformed police officers.

“Shit, get behind this bush,” Stan says, ushering the other two behind it. They all duck behind it and stand on their knees to be able to see what’s happening.

“Fuck, I think I sat on some poision ivy,” Kenny says, moving around loudly. Kyle and Stan shush him and he makes a face back at them. “Guys, it’s literally going in my ass.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” Stan whispers, not-so-discreetly trying to see if Kenny is telling the truth, snapping his eyes back in front of him when he realizes Kyle is looking at him. “Wear underwear next time, dipshit.”

“I’m wearing underwear, asshole, it’s fucking poision ivy. It doesn’t care about underwear. It just cares about making people itchy and fucking gross, man. It was gonna find it’s way up there somehow!”

“Hope you haven’t eaten anything spicy lately.” Despite the severity and gravity of the situation, Kyle can’t help but stifle a laugh. “You ever seen what poison ivy does to your skin? You’re in for a bad time.”

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Kenny hisses back. He’s settled himself back down, careful not to sit all the way down. “Fuck, dudes, my asshole is going to be on fire.”

Stan and Kyle snicker and Kenny shoots them a deadly look. 

Their attention is diverted when another shadowy figure joins the officers. The sun has gone down enough that they can’t quite make out who it is. They fall silent, straining their ears to listen. 

“Ah, Mr. Deputy Mayor. This is where it happened, sir,” one of the officers says, gesturing to the ground where the outline of Heidi’s body was mere hours ago. “The woman who found her is at the police station giving a statement right now.”

“Ah, I see.”

Kyle frowns. He looks between Stan and Kenny; both of them have had the same reaction. 

“Is that…?” Stan trails off. 

“Do we know what happened to her yet?”

They can see the officer shaking his head. “Not yet. They’re running a few tests. They believe that… she was infected.”

“Infected?” asks the mystery figure. “As in, she had the virus?”

“Oh, God, please no,” Kyle says in a barely audible voice. “Not him.”

“Yes. She was close to turning.”

“So… that could have been the cause of death?”

“Well, no. Between you and me, sir… there was a lot of blood and bits of brains. There was no way that she wasn’t murdered.”

“Interesting. And… how much time and resources are being dedicated to this endeavour? I would hope that this is of utmost importance to the South Park Police Department.”

“I mean… we can move some officers onto the case, if that’s what you want us to do. It will take some attention away from other areas, of course but… we can manage a few days.”

“Very good.” The mystery person turns to leave. “See to it that whoever murdered Heidi Turner is found and brought to justice. I’ll rest better knowing that you won’t rest until they’re found.”

The trio behind the bush look at each other, identical looks of horror on their faces. 

“Please, for the love of God,” Kenny whispers. “Tell me that wasn’t Eric fucking Cartman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :o
> 
> (I love writing Stan, Kyle and Kenny, wowwwwwwwwwwwww gonna have to come back to them)
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	11. Chapter 11

"Do you ever wonder if all this fainting is giving you brain damage?"

Tweek had been trying to come to quietly, peacefully, but of course, Craig noticed. 

He's woken up in his bed again. Craig stands at the other side of his room, fiddling with some coffee figurines he made out of clay when he was younger. Tweek groans, bringing a heavy hand up to shield his eyes from the light. 

"What made you ask me that?"

Craig shrugs. "I dunno. You just seem to do it a lot. You never used to."

Tweek considers this. Sure, he never used to get so anxious he'd just pass out, but it never really seemed to be a surprise to anyone when it started happening. They all just roll with it and tuck him into bed. And, really, it's a bit obnoxious on Craig's part to just assume that Tweek would be able to control his anxiety with everything going on around them. He's struggled with that long before this, and Craig knows that better than anyone.

"Sorry, Craig, let me just tell my body to grow up and try something new," he replies bitterly. "I don't have a good time, you know. I don’t go off to some paradise dreamland. This isn't fun."

Craig narrows his eyes, opens his mouth to reply, but seems to choose not to. He must know that there's no point in arguing.

Tweek feels victorious.

"What happened on the news that brought this on?" Craig asks instead.

"It wasn't so much the news as s-something I remembered. Something bad."

Tweek shimmies out from under the blankets and swings his legs around so his feet are on the floor. He feels dizzy from the movement, but he can't stand to be laying down any longer. 

Craig cocks his head, his expression interested. 

"Uh…" Tweek bites his lip. "When the girls and I went to Heidi's house… no, sorry, I need to back up. Heidi was keeping zombies in her basement. She showed them to me and Kyle. They were like… test subjects, mostly. It was like something out of a science fiction movie. She was doing e-experiments on them… trying to reverse the virus. Find a cure. That’s what she was researching before she came back to South Park. She said she was getting close but… I don’t know how close she got.

When the girls and I went to her house to look for her… I-I don’t think they were there! I didn’t hear them. I would have heard them. They were gone, Craig. I don’t know where they are. They m-must have gotten out! Oh  _ Jesus! _ Craig, they could be anywhere! Oh my God, what if they’re outside right now? What do we do? We’re gonna die!  _ Why are you just standing there? _ ”

At some point, Tweek has gotten up and frantically run to the window to check outside, paranoid there would actually be something out there.

There’s nothing.

He’s breathing erratically when Craig comes over and gently takes Tweek’s arms in his hands, holding him steady. 

“It’s okay, Tweek,” he says, his voice as reassuring as it can be. “Take a breath, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down!” Tweek wails. “Craig, there are fucking zombies out there! Zombies on steroids! I don’t know what Heidi put in her experiments but they can probably lift buildings! They’re gonna lift buildings on us! And then eat our brains!  _ How am I supposed to calm down?” _

Craig sucks his lips into his mouth for a moment as Tweek continues to shake under his hold. Tweek can’t get the image of zombies flipping buildings out of his mind. He can’t think about anything else. And he certainly can’t calm down. 

He can’t move his arms up to grab his hair, which is what he really wants to do, because Craig’s grip is too tight. Craig still doesn’t say anything. Tweek lets out another loud wail and wiggles out of Craig’s grasp. 

“How are we supposed to live like this, Craig?” he asks, finally free to thread his fingers through his hair and grab large chunks, pulling at the roots roughly. “How are you standing there acting like everything is normal? I don’t want to watch the news because I’m scared enough already! But you watch it  _ every day! _ The world is ending, Craig! What are we supposed to do?”

Craig takes a deep breath. It’s been a while since he’s had to do this. “Tweek. There’s not much we can do. If we see the zombies, we take them out. Okay? We have to take this one day at a time.”

Tweek’s eyes are bulging. “U-unbelievable.”

“How?” Craig snaps. “What about everything I'm saying is so hard for you to listen to? There’s nothing we can do, okay? But I promise you that no matter how bad things get, I’ll be here.”

“That doesn’t help!” Tweek screams. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Craig’s so loud that his voice cracks. “You’re being completely unreasonable, dude! Tweek, no one knows what to do. Who would have ever predicted that fucking zombies could be real? We just… have to get through each day as we can.”

Tweek is still shaking, still pulling his hair out, but he doesn’t know how to argue with Craig anymore. He’s right. All Tweek can do is wail once more and lean into the window, hitting his head against the glass a few times. 

“You… you don’t have to do that, Tweek.” Craig sounds exhausted. “Come on.”

He moves Tweek away from the window, out of his room and down the stairs. He sits Tweek down on the couch, sitting beside him and reaching for the remote. 

“Let’s just try the local news,” he says. “It’s eight o’clock. There’ll be, like, anniversaries and things on.”

“Imagine that,” Tweek says dully. “An a-anniversary during the apocalypse.”

“Come on, Tweek, people can still be happy.” Craig clicks the TV on, changing it to a local station where the usual newscaster is reading off something about community events. 

Tweek tries his best to pay attention, and he kind of can. But… the news is either really boring or verging on completely dreadful so he can’t find a happy medium. 

“...And now for the top stories this hour,” the anchor says. “Mayor McDaniels has called for residents of South Park to stay on their guard in the days to come due to the murder of resident Heidi Turner. Police have not yet released any details, but the Deputy Mayor spoke earlier this afternoon in the town square about the incident.”

The TV pans to the town square where the podium is set up and there’s a large crowd. The camera zooms into the podium where none other than Eric Cartman stands, his hair combed across his fat head, dressed in a crisp suit. 

“The Mayor and I want to acknowledge that there may be a lot of fear spreading around our town,” says the recording of Cartman. Tweek and Craig exchange identical looks of surprise. Neither of them had any idea that Cartman was the Deputy Mayor. “We understand that fear. Given recent events, it’s the only logical response. But fear not, citizens of South Park, we are doing everything we can to protect this town, to protect you. Make no mistake, whoever extinguished Heidi Turner’s bright light will be brought to justice. But remember that we are committed to making sure we are all okay.”

Tweek’s mind is racing. There are too many things to worry about, he doesn’t know what to do. 

“Who the fuck voted for Cartman?” Craig asks. Tweek twitches.

“What if he knows, Craig? What if they know it was me? They’re not gonna believe Heidi asked me to do it.”

“Tweek, think about it,” Craig says. “Do you really trust the police in this town to actually solve a crime on their own? I bet they’re gonna find some scapegoat and blame it on them.”

“...Good point.”

It does calm Tweek down considerably. This wouldn’t be the first time an investigation got bungled by the South Park PD. He remembers all the times they had to solve their own crimes as kids. 

“Yeah, do you feel better?” Craig asks. His hands are folded in his lap and it looks like it’s taking him a lot of effort to keep them there. “You just have to put everything into context and it’ll all be fine.”

Tweek is still conscious of how much he hates Craig’s nonchalance about the whole thing, but he doesn’t really want to argue further. He’s had enough for one night, he thinks. 

“...and furthermore, the Mayor and I want to stress that this is not a time to panic. Everything will be fine. We need to just continue as normal, and things will all equal out.”

Tweek frowns at the TV, because he doubts every word coming from Cartman’s mouth. It sounds absurd given the circumstances. He twitches, but tries to keep it contained.

It looks like Cartman is taking questions. Someone Tweek vaguely recognizes asks why the Mayor isn’t the one doing this press conference. Cartman barely hesitates before answering.

“The Mayor isn’t feeling well,” he replies. “She is resting right now, she’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

It seems suspicious, and judging by the small, confused sound Craig makes beside him. They glance at each other.

“Okay, I’ll admit it. That was… weird.”

“Right?” Tweek rolls his fingers, feeling the joints crack as they move. “Something doesn’t feel right. How is he so… chill?”

Neither of them have any ideas. It just feels off, and that’s as far as they get before the anchor is back on, talking about ways to stay occupied. Tweek stops paying attention. There’s too much to keep him occupied already that he doesn’t need someone on TV telling him what to do. 

The news program ends eventually. 

“See, I got through the news,” Tweek says. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Craig turns the TV off. “I still don’t know what’s up with Cartman. That was the weirdest press conference I’ve ever seen.”

“It was… I wonder what’s wrong with the Mayor.”

~*~*~*~*

“How have you been doing, Tweek?”

Wendy twists around from the front seat of Bebe’s parents car. Tweek, Red and Nichole fill out the back seat on the way to the edge of town for Heidi’s funeral. He thought it best if he went with the girls. 

“ _ Ngh. _ ” Tweek twitches a little, the image of Heidi’s dead body flashing for a split second behind his eyes. “As good as I can be, I s-suppse.”

Red pats his leg comfortingly. “It’s okay, Tweek. It’ll all be okay.”

It doesn’t really feel like it’ll be okay, but Tweek doesn’t want to spend the day wallowing in his own self doubt and guilt. He’s not sure who planned the funeral, as it’s not like Heidi’s parents could do that, but he’s hopeful that it might bring him some closure. 

They’ve arrived, earlier than most people it seems, and they all pile out of the car. When he walks around to join the whole group, Bebe links arms with him as they approach the cemetery. 

There are only a few people filling the seats so far. The group is able to grab seats near the front, in full view of the beautiful wooden casket. Tweek swallows a lump in his throat when he sees it. There’s a picture of Heidi surrounded by a wreath near the head of the casket; the sight makes his chest feel tight. 

He stares at Heidi’s picture while the rest of the attendees arrive. People all around him are openly weeping, sniffing loudly and obnoxiously blowing their noses. He makes eye contact with Craig when he arrives with Token, Jimmy and Clyde; Kenny presses a kiss to his forehead when he walks past with Kyle and Stan and doesn’t leave until he knows Tweek is okay with the girls.

He can tell that Craig doesn’t really like that.

As he’s looking at Craig, his expression of irritation changes to one of surprise. Tweek follows his eyes.

Standing at the head of Heidi’s casket is Eric Cartman. For the second time in as many days, Tweek is disgustingly shocked to see him.

It’s more bizarre in person. Cartman’s face has filled out over the years since high school and not in a nice way. It’s very doughy and he can barely fit his neck in his tight suit. 

“Thank you all for coming,” he says loudly, his mouth screwed up in a very fake looking mournful expression. “This is… obviously a hard day.”

Tweek is staring at Cartman with an open mouthed frown. How on Earth has Eric Cartman ended up the one heading Heidi’s funeral? Heidi and Eric had endured one of the most toxic relationships Tweek has ever seen for an ungodly amount of years. Needless to say, Heidi was not the toxic one.

“Heidi was such a special soul,” Cartman says with a theatrical sniff, wiping away imaginary tears. “Taken from us too soon.”

Tweek stops paying attention for the simple reason that Cartman’s voice is grating on his nerves and he can’t stand to listen to it anymore when he  _ wants _ to be thinking about his friend. He stares at Heidi’s picture and tries to imagine her voice again, from before things got bad. 

He closes his eyes and pretends he can hear her. 

“ _ Would you listen to him? _ ” Dream Heidi asks in his ear. “ _ Can you believe that he’s the one doing this? How have things gotten so bad that Eric is the one doing my funeral?” _

Tweek imagines his response would be something vaguely comforting, trying to tell Heidi that this is exactly the type of thing that Eric Cartman would do. He’s shocked, but he’s hardly surprised.

“ _ You’re right, Tweek. This is really good press. He’ll do anything to make himself look good. What do you think he’s up to?” _

He doesn’t know. He opens his eyes and looks at her picture again. She’s now staring back at him through the frame, her gaze puzzled.

“ _ I think we need to find out.” _

Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps there’s something going on. 

He tells her picture that he’ll get to the bottom of it. She smiles back at him. 

Wendy grabbing his hand and squeezing it from the left brings him back to Earth. She lays her head on his shoulder as she wipes her nose with her free hand. He rests his head on top of hers, his ear smushed up against her scalp. Her shoulders rub up against his with her sobs. 

He remembers back when they were sixteen. Eric and Heidi had gotten in yet another one of their fights, and Heidi was sitting just as Wendy is sitting now, against Tweek. He could never understand their relationship, and he definitely never approved of it, but there was never anything he could do. He was just glad when they finally broke up for good just before high school graduation.

Somehow, Cartman is still talking, but he’s not talking about Heidi. He’s somehow turned his speech around to be focused on himself and Tweek is reaching the end of his rope. 

Just as he has almost decided he can’t take it anymore, Cartman is finished. Tweek is relieved. 

Father Maxi is the next to talk and Tweek stops paying attention once again. He could never stand Father Maxi’s sermons, and less his funerals. The man was always just so boring. 

Finally,  _ finally, _ everyone is done talking. Tweek sucks his lips into his teeth when they begin to lower the coffin. He’s been able to get to this point without crying, but that resolve crumbles as soon as it hits the ground. Tears sting his eyes and he can’t watch any longer. 

He instead looks at the ground just before the coffin, listening to the sobs of everyone around him. People he doesn’t know begin to pile dirt in the hole that the coffin had just been put into, signalling the end of the funeral. 

Tweek stays seated for a few minutes longer to compose himself. He lets go of Wendy’s hand and they rise at the same time. He hugs each of the girls. It starts to make him cry all over again; somehow, hugs always make him feel worse. 

He fiddles with his fingers as everyone mills about, bringing up memories of Heidi that would normally make him smile. There are too many people here. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He sticks close to Bebe and Wendy, which turns out to be a terrible idea. Everyone wants to talk to them, to comfort them. He doesn’t know a lot of them, but they still shake his hand, hug him. It’s very uncomfortable.

It’s a few more minutes before a hand tucks into his and lips are at his ear, whispering, “you okay?”

He shakes his head. It’s loud enough that he can’t really hear who’s voice it is, but he has a good feeling. 

“I’ll walk you home.”

The hand gently tugs his and he’s freed from the crowd. It’s Craig, just as he expected. He’s pulled in close as Craig puts an arm around him and they leave the cemetery together. He leans into Craig as they walk. 

“Are you okay?” Craig asks again. They’re now in the parking lot at Craig’s car. They tuck themselves inside and it comes to life as Craig turns it on. “I can imagine that would have been hard for you.”

Tweek’s chest still feels tight from all the people back there, and it feels like he still needs to come back down before he can be okay. “ _ Ngh… _ funerals are always hard. I wish… I wish someone who actually loved Heidi could have spoken. Like Red, o-or Bebe. That would have been better.”

Craig pats Tweek’s leg, moving the hand he used to the back of Tweek’s seat as he backs out of the parking lot. 

It’s quiet in the car as they drive back into town. Craig slows down as they reach the mall, heading into that parking lot now. 

“It’s been a long day,” he says as he expertly slides into a spot. “Do you want to go in and get some dinner? I know it’s only mall food, but still. You probably haven’t eaten all day, you need to eat.”

Tweek gives him a small smile. “Thanks, Craig. I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly just a filler chapter as I plan out the next few. Things are going to start going pretty soon :)
> 
> Also, I've never been to a funeral outside, they've always been inside a church, but South Park always seems to show them outside??? So Idk how they actually work but I tried. 
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/) I'd love to have some new friends while I'm stuck inside my house with nowhere to go :):):):)


	12. Chapter 12

“I think we need to find out what’s going on.”

Tweek stops his forkful of gourmet Ramen halfway to his mouth, cocking his eyebrow across the table at Craig. He returns the food back to the bowl.

The food court at the mall is full of chatter as people mill about with their lunches and shopping. Craig’s burger sits untouched in front of him; he’s been playing with the same french fry for the past twenty minutes as Tweek has been happily eating his Ramen, eating the vegetables one by one and sipping the broth. 

“What do you think is going on, Craig?” Tweek asks back. He’s weirdly calm, and that’s really what he’s been focusing on. He’s never been this calm in his life. He has to assume it’s because Craig has been nervously tapping his fingers on the table and is looking around shiftily. It’s strange being the one with the level head, but someone has to.

Craig breathes out loudly through his nose. “I think Cartman is up to something. I don’t know what. But… deputy mayor? Speaking at Heidi’s funeral? Come on, Tweek. Something is up.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Tweek and Craig are surprised when Stan’s voice floats over. Tweek is surprised to see him, Kyle and Kenny. Stan, especially, as Tweek is well aware how much Stan hates the mall. 

"Where the fuck did you come from?" Craig asks dryly, shooting Kenny a venomous look as he sits down beside Tweek. "Were you fucking eavesdropping, dude? Because I swear to God -"

"Relax," Stan replies, rolling his eyes. He's on the edge of his seat beside Craig as though the other was contaminated with something. "We followed you guys here from the funeral, sure, but only because we found something out and figured we should talk to you."

"Cartman was at Stark's Pond the other night, where they found Heidi's body," Kyle says. He's on the other side of Tweek, elbow on the table, leaning his cheek into his palm. “Guys… I think Cartman killed Heidi.”

Tweek’s been trying to finish his Ramen, but chokes at Kyle’s words. Kenny claps him on the back. “W-what makes you think that?”

Stan shoots Tweek a strange look, but doesn’t say anything.

“Think about it, dude,” Kyle says, seemingly ignoring Tweek’s reaction. “He finds out Heidi is back in town, clearly she would never get back together with him, so what else is there to do but murder her? You know he’s fucking insane. He’ll do anything to cling to power.”

Craig blinks a few times in disbelief. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Stan asks. “Craig, obviously that’s the only explanation for what happened to Heidi.”

“I don’t think Cartman killed Heidi,” Carig says quietly, not looking at Tweek, who can’t even pick his fork back up because he’s had to force his shaking hands out of sight under the table. 

“Everything points to it!” Kyle almost sounds desperate. “Dude, he’s up to something!”

“Okay, yes, I agree that he’s up to something. But he didn’t kill Heidi.”

“And how do you know?” Stan asks accusingly. “How can you say that so confidently?”

Before Craig can dig himself deeper, Kenny notices Tweek sweating and shaking beside him and comes to the rescue.

“She was infected,” he says quietly. “Right, Tweek?”

Tweek startles at his name being mentioned but recovers quickly. “Y-yeah! She got bit. She had been trying to work on a cure but she… I guess didn’t get it in time.”

Kyle looks thoughtful now, but Stan’s frown just gets deeper. “What are you not telling us?”

Tweek purses his lips in an effort not to wail. He tries his best to keep his face neutral, perhaps a little confused, but he’s struggling. Craig, however, remains stoic and despite his willingness to spill this much, he says nothing.

“I think we need to look at all possible angles,” Kenny cuts in now. “I think that’s all they’re trying to do.”

Stan shoots Kenny a look and Tweek can practically see the gears turning in his head. Kenny reaches over and takes Tweek’s hand under the table in an effort to calm him down. It doesn’t really work, but Tweek appreciates it anyway. 

He’s conflicted. He trusts Stan and Kyle, but on the other hand, the fewer people who know about what happened to Heidi, the better. He starts grinding his teeth unintentionally, despite  _ really _ trying not to, knowing how guilty it makes him look. 

The five of them stare at each other for a moment, no one speaking. Tweek occasionally twitches.

“Seriously, dude, what’s going on?” Kyle asks him finally, looking at him with a look that is just  _ so Kyle _ that Tweek breaks.

“I did it!” he practically shrieks. “It was me! I had to, dude! I had to! She wanted Bebe to, but Bebe couldn’t, and I couldn’t stand to see her that way! So I did it! Oh  _ Jesus!” _

Kyle and Stan seem stunned, staring at Tweek with identical gobsmacked expressions. 

“What?” Kyle asks, his voice so level, almost dead sounding. It’s not even a question.

Tweek slips his hand out of Kenny’s and thunks his elbows on the table, slamming his head into his palms and roughly grabbing two fistfuls of hair and pulling hard. He explains for the third time now everything that happened, even mentioning the zombies in her basement, as Kyle had seen them too and he knows by now that this is an important detail. When he’s done, Kyle’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head, horrified, and Stan is just staring at Tweek with his head cocked, his mouth open. 

After a moment, he closes his mouth, looks around and asks in a low voice, “how did you do it?”

“Dude!” Kyle scolds, finally taking his gaze off Tweek to gawk instead at Stan. 

“I just… how did you do it?” Stan asks again. 

Tweek genuinely cannot make himself answer, even if he wanted to (he doesn’t).

“He bashed her head in with a porch swing pole,” Craig answers flatly, noticing Tweek’s struggle. 

“Dude.” Stan seems grossly amazed by this. Kyle makes an angry, shocked noise over at his best friend. 

“Dude!” he says indignantly. “Don’t… don’t sound so impressed! This is  _ super _ fucked up!”

“I’m not impressed,” Stan argues, although perhaps he was a little. “I just… I just didn’t think you had it in you, Tweek.”

Tweek wails again, pulling even harder on his hair, unable to stop the noises coming from his mouth. His chest starts to hurt. Kenny softly reaches over, threads his fingers through Tweek’s, and removes them from his scalp, placing them on the table and putting his own over them. When Tweek looks up, he can practically see the steam coming from Craig’s ears as his eyes are trained on the hands on the table.

“I can’t believe you killed Heidi, Tweek,” Kyle says, pulling Tweek from his thoughts. “I cannot  _ believe _ you would do something like that. What is wrong with you?”

...What?

Kyle is angry; pushed himself to the very edge of his chair as though Tweek had just threatened him personally. It hurts, a lot. Despite the surprise he’s felt at the support he’s gotten for his actions, Kyle has surprised him the most. He’s not expecting this reaction.

“I-I had to!” he squeaks, desperately, pleading at Kyle to see reason. “Kyle, she  _ was  _ infected, and she asked me to! She had already torn her parents apart, there was no going back!”

Kyle is seething. “I cannot. Fucking believe. That you could even  _ think _ that this is okay. It’s not okay.”

“Kyle, dude,” Kenny says, stopping Tweek from slamming his head on the table. “This is an impossible situation, and you need to understand-”

“No,  _ you _ need to understand!” Kyle has risen from his seat abruptly, crossing his arms and glaring daggers down at Tweek, then at Kenny. “Heidi didn’t need to die, and you didn’t  _ have _ to fucking kill her. You could have said no, and you should have. You’re a murderer, Tweek. And I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I can just accept this. You have to tell the police, dude.”

“Kyle, seriously,” Stan says. He’s gotten up as well. “Look at him, dude, do you think he wanted things to end up that way? Tell me you would have done anything differently.”

“I wouldn’t have bashed her head in!” Kyle bursts out. People are turning to look in surprise, but ultimately go about their days. “I would have let her live, dude! I would have - “

Tweek is able to talk again, and he cuts Kyle off, his voice surprisingly even. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see her. The state she was in was no way to live. She asked me to do it, Kyle, so she wouldn’t reanimate into an undead killing machine. If you think I’m a terrible person for helping my friend, because I  _ loved  _ her, then fine. But you have  _ no _ idea what it was like to see her that way. I can’t get the image of her, laying on the ground, out of my head. I’ll never be able to get it out of my head. If I could have avoided it, I would. T-trust me. I would. But… I did what I had to do.”

The two stare at each other, intensely, for a long while while their friends and all the shoppers around them blur silently into the background. Finally,  _ finally _ , Kyle breaks.

“Fine.”

He sits back down in defeat, not bothering to shy away from Tweek this time. 

Now that the events of the past few days are out in the open, no one really knows what to say, until Craig clears his throat.

“I still think Cartman is up to something,” he says. “And we need to find out. Or, I need to find out. Don’t really care if you guys come or not.”

Kyle narrows his eyes. “Oh, we’re coming. I agree with you. I’ve had a bad feeling ever since we saw him the other night.”

*~*~*~*

“Ow, dude, that was my fucking face.”

“Well,  _ Stan, _ lift me up better and maybe I won’t have to put my foot in your face.”

“Less putting feet in faces, more coming through the window, assholes.”

Craig sticks his head out the window of a generic looking office in city hall, just waiting for Stan and Kyle to come in after him, Tweek and Kenny. His arms are crossed and he looks disdainfully down at the two on the ground, rolling his eyes as Stan struggles to give Kyle a boost.

With a little help from Kenny, the two manage to scramble inside. 

“Okay,” Craig whispers, cracking the door of the office slightly and looks around. “I think we’re clear.”

They silently file out of the room, Kenny closing the door softly behind him. 

“Find Cartman’s office,” Kyle instructs, looking around. “Once we find it, we’ll snoop around.”

They split up. Stan wanders off one way, Kyle and Kenny another way, and Tweek starts to head up the centre staircase, Craig hot on his heels. There are a few doors on the landing, but none of them are Cartman’s office.

He turns to face Craig, who is closer behind him than he had been expecting. He’s a little surprised, but pretends it doesn’t affect him (it does; his face is burning as he looks at Craig’s face in the dark). 

“So, when we find Cartman’s office, what are you planning on doing?” he asks quietly, hoping Craig can’t see how nervous he is. Sneaking around City Hall in the dark makes his heart flutter. 

“...Was kind of hoping he’d have some incriminating evidence laying around,” Craig answers, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll be honest, Tweek, I don’t know what I expect to find, but I’m sure something will be in there.”

The answer does not reassure Tweek. He’s not sure why Craig has taken up this cause, or if Cartman has even committed a crime besides being an enormous douche. But, he thinks, if Craig, Kyle and Stan all have the same gut feeling, they’re bound to find something.

Right?

He makes a face at Craig, placing a hand squarely on his chest to move him out of the way. Craig, despite the tense situation, places a gentle hand on top of Tweek’s. Tweek almost short circuits at the casual contact, lightning shooting through his body from his hand. Craig is so warm, soft; he relishes in the touch.

“And don’t worry about Kyle,” he says, even though Tweek actually hasn’t been. “You know what he’s like. Morals and all. He’s fine.”

“Thanks, Craig.”

Craig smiles, a crooked, secret smile, before letting go of Tweek’s hand and moving out of the way, following him as Tweek makes his way back down the stairs to meet up with Stan. 

“Kenny and Kyle found it,” Stan whispers, gesturing down the way the other two went. “Let’s go.”

The three of them continue down the hallway in the dark, stumbling over each other a little. Kenny and Kyle have already forced their way into what Tweek presumes was once a locked office, somehow silently. The group is reunited in a uncharastically simple looking office, bathed in moonlight from the large arched windows. Kyle is rooting around in the desk drawer and Kenny is moving along the wall, knocking every so often. Stan kneels down, putting his ear to the floor; Tweek heads to the bookcase in the corner of the room. 

They search for a few minutes, not actually sure what they’re looking for, until Stan stops in his tracks. Tweek looks over absently. From the limited light that the moon provides, he can see that all colour has drained from Stan’s face. 

“There’s something under here,” he says, his voice almost completely silent. “Fuck. Something is moving under the floor.”

Kyle closes the desk drawer he had been rifling around in, straightens up, and begins to walk over to where Stan is, but he trips, falling hard. The group freezes when they can hear… groaning? Banging? From underneath them?

“What the fuck is that?” Kyle asks, horrified, skittering away from where he fell until he hits the wall. “What the  _ fuck _ is that noise?”

Tweek approaches, cautious, to the spot where Kyle tripped. The carpet looks inconsistent, like something on the floor beneath it is raised. 

“I think that’s a trap door,” he says, waving everyone over. “I think… there might be something underneath there.”

Another groan comes up from the floor. Kenny, Craig and Stan crowd around it with Tweek; Kyle is still glued to the wall, shaking with fear.

“... sounds more like a someone,” Kenny says. Tweek’s head snaps up to look at him, gasps. Something about the groan… sounds familiar...

“Fuck,” he says, covering his mouth and backing away. “Guys, fuck. What if… what if it’s… a zombie?”

The four of them (and probably Kyle, Tweek can’t really see) look at each other, considering the idea and the implications. 

“No,” Stan says. “It can’t be…”

Another groan coming from the floor says otherwise. Actually, it’s two groans. And a lot of banging around. The carpet starts to move up. There’s definitely more than one of whatever is down there. 

Oh no.

_ Oh Jesus. _

Tweek starts hyperventilating. He puts his hands up and walks backwards to the door. “W-w-what if those are… the ones from Heidi’s house?”

Four pairs of eyes snap up to him, fear reflected in each one, as realization hits them that perhaps this is the bad gut feeling they all had. Why Cartman seemed so invested in Heidi’s death. 

“Oh, fuck,” Kenny says, just as one more bang causes the carpet to give completely. Evidently, there was some sort of hatch under it, directly beneath Cartman’s chair, which has now burst open. Stan jumps backwards, towards Kyle, and Craig has to steady himself from the shock as he inches closer to Tweek, who can’t take his eyes off the scene in front of him as he feels around for the door knob. 

“Stan… you have the gun, right?” Kenny asks nervously, calculating the best exit point. Stan blanches.

“...I thought you had it.”

“Oh, okay, great. So we came here completely unarmed, blind to the possibility that perhaps we might need a weapon?”

“Well you don’t have it either!”

As they argue, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room as a hand emerges from the hatch, scrabbling blindly around until it falls flat on the floor. Another groan bellows out and it sounds like something is trying to pull itself up. 

Tweek turns around to find the doorknob and Craig moves in to cover his back. When Tweek finally finds it, he… can’t open it. He struggles with it a few times before Craig joins in, both of them frantically trying to open the door. 

They’re unable to. It’s jammed. 

“Fuck,” Tweek says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” 

He jiggles the knob a few more times, aggressively, desperately. Still nothing. 

“We need to get out of here,” Craig says, stating the obvious. “Open the window.”

Stan seems to come out of his trance and bolts to the window, displacing Kenny, who is peering down the hatch with an interested expression. 

“Might wanna speed that up, Marsh,” he says, eerily calm. It makes the pit of Tweek’s stomach fall to his feet. “They’ll be able to climb out in, oh, a minute? Maybe less?”

Craig’s hand closes around Tweek’s arm and drags him over to the window. Kyle seems to have regained the use of his body and he’s come over as well. Apparently fed up with how slow Stan is progressing, Craig slips off his shoe and slams it into one of the window panes with all his strength, shattering the glass around it. He cleans up the sharp pieces and sticks his head outside.

“It’s not that far,” he says urgently. “Come on, we need to go.”

He takes the lead and positions himself in the window first, taking a deep breath before leaping out without a second thought. Seconds later, he lands with a loud thud. 

Tweek looks behind him; he can now see the head of what is definitely a zombie, its skin grey and falling off, exposing bone and sinew. He twitches violently, wails, as he recognizes it definitively as one of the ones from Heidi’s basement. 

“ _ Jesus Christ!”  _ he screams, grabbing his hair. Stan has to take hold of him. 

“Tweek, we have to go,” he says urgently as Kyle jumps out the window after Craig. “Like, now.”

Tweek looks up at Kenny, who is toeing at the struggling zombie as though it’s nothing more than a game. Kenny seems to notice Tweek’s gaze, and he lifts his head with a smile. 

“Go on,” he says in that unsettling voice. “Be safe.”

“You’re gonna die!” Tweek shrieks. Kenny gives a little laugh as the corpse beneath him grabs his leg and starts moaning loudly, scratching at his pants.

“Yeah, probably. But… I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

Before Tweek can process those words, he’s pushed to the broken window by Stan as the other zombie makes an appearance, less rotted than the other and apparently stronger as it is able to come up much faster. 

“Go!” Stan yells frantically. Tweek doesn’t need to be told twice as Kenny is now being pulled completely down the hatch, that serene, calm smile still present somehow. Tweek sucks in a breath, closes his eyes and jumps.

It hurts when he lands, falling to his knees and rolling out of the way in time for Stan to land beside him. He hisses as he realizes he’s rolled onto glass.

He looks up; Kyle and Stan are both in similar positions and Craig is just pulling himself up. 

“Is everyone okay?” Kyle asks. Craig straightens up and offers his hand to Kyle, who in turn helps Stan up. Craig is now moving to Tweek, gently placing one hand on the backs of Tweek’s legs and the other around his shoulders. He picks him up, setting him down softly and brushing off his clothes to make sure there’s no glass in them. He cups Tweek’s face with a wet hand (Tweek hopes it’s just blood from the glass, then realizes what a fucked up thing that is to hope for) and pulls him close. 

“Ke-Kenny isn’t!” Tweek says, raising his voice to be heard through Craig’s chest. “He’s still in there!”

“...I don’t think he’s coming out, Tweek.” That’s Stan, who groans in pain. 

Tweek’s heart sinks. He feels sick. Because… it feels so familiar. He remembers Kenny’s parting words and his stomach lurches. He pushes Craig away so he can breathe. 

They try their best to regroup, deciding on the best course of action. Kyle suggests that they go home, but they all freeze in fear when a nearby bush rustles and they hear footsteps. They’re silent as two figures emerge from the dark.

“... What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

Stan squints as they all seem to recognize the voice. The two figures get closer, but they're not afraid anymore. “What the fuck are  _ you _ guys doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Kenny.
> 
> I very much hope this chapter makes sense. I've had a lil wine. 
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	13. Chapter 13

“Well, we asked you first. So… what are you doing here?”

“Did you follow me?” Craig folds his arms. “What the fuck, Token?”

Tweek can hear a sigh that sounds a lot like Clyde. “Yeah. We did.”

“And what’s the point of that?”

Another sigh. This time, it sounds like Jimmy. Tweek frowns at the figures still bathed in darkness. He, too, really wants to know what the point of being followed as they have been.

The cloud cover obstructing the moon moves out of the way, revealing the very nervous looking forms of Token, Clyde and Jimmy. Tweek can see Craig narrowing his eyes at them.

“I’m fucking serious, why were you following me?” he asks. 

“Well… not  _ just _ you,” Jimmy says. “Tweek too. A-a-and what are you even doing here? It’s past mid-mid-mid… it’s one thirty in the morning.”

“We asked you first,” Stan says, arms crossed. 

“No, actually, I asked you first,” Token points out. “We  _ do  _ have a reason for following Craig, though… to be fair, it was mostly Clyde’s idea. But what are you even doing at City Hall in the first place?”

“No one asked you to call me out like that,” Clyde pouts. Craig shoots him an incredulous look. “And… yeah. And why are Stan and Kyle here?”

Kyle looks puzzled. “Why wouldn’t we be here?”

“Dude, what the fuck do you think is going on right now?” Craig asks. Tweek looks around at his group. Their clothes have been torn from the broken glass still left on the window, and all four of them are at least a little bloody. Kyle seems to be having trouble standing straight; maybe he twisted his ankle. He… has no idea what Clyde is seeing right now.

Token’s mouth is a flat line when he answers. “We… thought you and Tweek were going to get back together and we… well, we didn’t want to miss it.”

Tweek immediately turns to look at Craig, who is looking back at him, shaking his head towards his friends with a look on his face that says “what the fuck?”

Stan’s staring at the very uncomfortable trio in front of them in utter disbelief. “Are you fucking serious?”

“It would have been a mom...mome-mom… event we wouldn’t want to miss,” Jimmy says with a shrug. “C-come on fellas, don’t tell us you haven’t been rooting for Tweek and Craig as much as we have.”

Tweek lets out a scream of frustration. “There’s bigger things to worry about than me and fucking Craig, dude!”

His eye is twitching out of control so he misses the look Craig gives him now. He casts his eyes (as best as he can when one of them won’t open properly) to the window and jumps when he sees a bloody faced zombie leaning out the window, groaning over at them. 

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” he shrieks. He flails his arms out around him, accidentally smacking Kyle’s arm. He grabs onto it hard and Kyle hisses in pain. 

“Okay, dude, we’ll go!” 

Token has followed Tweek’s line of sight and looks up at the zombie in horror. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a zombie, Token, and now it has a taste for our blood.” Craig’s tone is so casual it makes Tweek want to rip his hair out. “So, yeah, we probably should leave.”

It occurs to Tweek that the three of them have likely not been exposed to an actual zombie before, so he can understand why they would be hesitating to move while he’s been working to drag Kyle with him towards Kyle’s mom’s car. He doesn’t like that they’re just standing there with dumb looks on their faces, though. It makes him sick to his stomach. 

“I’m fucking serious, dude, we need to go!” he says to Kyle through clenched teeth. Kyle looks a little afraid of him. 

“We’re just going to leave it there?” Stan asks. He’s following Tweek and Kyle slowly, but looking back towards the window every few seconds. “...what if it gets out?”

“Then we’ll all be safe at home!” Tweek explodes, yanking Kyle harder. Kyle yelps. “I wouldn’t have to pull so hard if you would just  _ move, dude!” _

“Oh, my God, okay!” Kyle picks up the pace,  _ finally _ , and they break out into a run. He can hear Craig sigh loudly behind him as he herds his friends to the car too. Kyle keeps looking back, but Tweek doesn’t. 

Once at Kyle’s car, Stan leans against it, slightly out of breath. He’s looking at Token, Clyde and Jimmy with a slight frown. 

“I gotta ask,” he says. “What did you think Kyle and I were doing with Craig and Tweek if you assumed they were getting back together?”

Clyde shrugs, looking awkwardly back at him. “Dude, I don’t know what gay shit you all do together. Wasn’t gonna ask.”

“Gay shit?” Stan sputters. “W-what-”

Craig doesn’t let him finish. “You guys are fucking stupid, you know that?”

“...yeah.” Clyde looks down at his feet. Jimmy and Token look equally awkward and guilty. 

“We’ve gotta get home,” Tweek says wildly, half desperate to get away and half wanting to never bring up this conversation again. He pulls on the door to the backseat a few times, but Kyle hasn’t unlocked the door yet. “Open the door!”

Kyle, still wide eyed and shocked at Tweek (despite seeing similar panic attacks in the past), slowly unlocks the door. Tweek roughly opens the door and launches himself into the backseat. 

“Get in the car!” he wails. Kyle crosses and gets in the drivers side, while Stan gets in shotgun and Craig climbs in beside Tweek. He watches Token, Clyde and Jimmy slink away, not caring where they’re going while Kyle starts the car and drives off, back towards their neighbourhood.

He’s having trouble controlling his twitching when Craig’s hand slides softly onto his leg. That just makes him more nervous.

“So… are we just not gonna talk about how Cartman had Heidi’s zombies in his office?” Kyle asks, clearing his throat through the silence. “Because, I dunno about you guys, but that concerns me a little.”

He turns onto the main road as Stan sucks in a breath. “Yeah I… I think it’s a little fucked up.”

“A little!” Tweek says. “Only a little, yeah!” 

“Calm down, honey, it’s okay,” Craig says quietly, squeezing Tweek’s leg. He raises his voice a little and continues, “I really think Cartman had something to do with everything that’s been happening. I think we need to get answers.”

“We can’t just waltz up to him and ask him, though,” Stan argues. “Hey, Cartman, I know you’re the deputy Mayor and all, but what were you doing with those zombies Heidi was experimenting on before Tweek bashed her head in? Which, by the way, did you have anything to do with that? Yeah, I hardly see how that’s appropriate.”

“Maybe leave out the part about me!” Tweek yells. “And what do you mean, did he have anything to do with that?”

Stan swivels around in his seat to look at Tweek. He pauses momentarily at the sight of Craig’s hand inching up Tweek’s thigh, but doesn’t comment on it. “Think about it, dude. How convenient was it that you just came across her in the woods? And I talked to Wendy about it. They hid the body off the trail, in the forest. It makes no sense that someone just happened to find her. Something is just off about the whole thing.”

Tweek considers this, but his brain is currently short circuiting under Craig’s touch, so he has very little brainpower to devote to other things. Craig seems to know this too, as his fingers creep up even higher. Stan is still talking, but Tweek can’t pay attention. 

He snaps out of it when Kyle pulls in front of his house. It’s only now that he realizes how inappropriate the situation is. He unbuckles himself, saying nothing, ashamed at his lack of response to what he’s sure is a solid theory that Stan has thought a lot about. He’ll have to come back to it when his entire supply of blood isn’t in his dick.

He’s so focused on his embarrassment that he doesn't notice Craig getting out of the car at the same time. Kyle pulls away, to head down the street towards his and Stan’s houses. 

Tweek stares at Craig, making his way over. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you get home okay,” Craig says nonchalantly. He takes Tweek’s hand in a motion that is so easy and casual that Tweek can only gawk. “Let’s go.”

Tweek follows him into the house, up the stairs, into Tweek’s room, without saying anything. He wonders briefly how Craig is able to make him feel like this, even after the events of the night. 

Craig flips on the light. “Are you okay?”

Tweek looks up at him. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he’s okay, or if he’s going to be.

“It was a long night,” he answers eventually, his voice cracking. “Craig… what’s going to happen to us? We just left that zombie hanging out the window! W-what if it gets out? And eats us all?”

“I doubt that it would be able to brace itself properly for a fall out the window,” Craig replies. Tweek has crossed the room to peer out the window, and Craig has followed him. He’s pressed tightly to Tweek’s back, craning his own neck to peek out the window too. “And even if it could, I doubt that it would be able to pick itself up and orient itself towards any actual people before someone else notices it. I think we’re fine. But I wasn’t talking about the zombie. I was talking about Kenny.”

Tweek’s head snaps back at the mention of Kenny’s name. Craig gives him a look that he can’t quite read. 

“It can’t be easy seeing… that… happen to him,” Craig says. 

“Craig… Craig, I don’t think he’s dead.”

Craig frowns in confusion. “What?”

Tweek wiggles out from under Craig and steps away from the window. “This has happened before. I… I don’t remember any of it, but I just  _ feel _ like he’s not gone. I know it sounds crazy but - “

“There’s fucking undead zombies wandering around, Tweek, nothing sounds crazy anymore.”

Tweek wants to laugh. “D-do you believe me?”

“Well, yeah,” Craig says with a shrug. He’s taken Tweek’s hands in his again. “I don’t really understand it, but if you believe it, I believe it.”

Tweek smiles, for the first time in what feels like a long time, his eyes wet. He doesn’t deserve Craig and his unwavering support. He knows that Craig doesn’t really like Kenny, but Tweek has to admire how delicately he’s handling Tweek’s feelings about the situation. He can’t get his thoughts straight, and he doesn’t really know anything for sure anymore, but he knows Craig will be there. And… his hands are really warm, really soft.

He’s also really glad that Craig doesn’t think he’s crazy for thinking that Kenny isn’t actually dead. He has no evidence, nothing tangible to prove it, but Craig doesn’t need it. He just believes Tweek and his gut feelings.

And, Tweek thinks, he always has. Ever since they were kids. 

Looking up at Craig now, Tweek almost forgets why they broke up in the first place. 

Without thinking twice about it, without giving himself a moment to second guess himself, Tweek yanks one of his hands out of Craig’s grip, bringing it up to that… perfect face before him. The bit of stubble on Craig’s cheek tickles his palm. 

He licks his lips before leaning forward, raising himself onto his toes. It’s a clumsy movement, and his lips end up touching the corner of Craig’s mouth. He’s about to pull back when Craig grabs his waist, pulling him back in. He leans down, their noses tucked beside each other. Tweek can feel Craig’s breath as he exhales.

“You know I’ll always believe you, right?” Craig says, his voice barely audible, his words falling hot on Tweek’s cheek. Tweek feels the contrasting chill run down his spine as Craig speaks.

His mouth is hovering just slightly before Craig’s, both of them seemingly hesitating. Tweek’s hand travels upwards, into Craig’s hair, his fingers threading through. He doesn’t pull, just rests them there. 

Before Tweek can think, Craig’s mouth is on his; Craig has much better coordination. Tweek is stunned for half a second before he’s making a groaning noise, releasing it into Craig. It’s been so long since he’s felt Craig on him this way; so long he’s thought about it. Wanted it. Sat in the dark, considering it. 

Craig’s lips are soft, softer than Tweek remembers them. Softer than they were in his dreams. He leans back, into Craig’s hold. In response, Craig pulls him closer, his lips feeling like they’re bruising Tweek’s.

“Tweek,” Craig whispers against his lips, voice almost a moan. It sends a jolt through Tweek’s body. He can feel his face flush. His whole body is warm under Craig’s touch.

Craig doesn’t go anywhere after saying his name, but Tweek doesn’t mind. Their mouths have found their way back together, and Tweek is now fisting the hair in his grip and giving it a light pull. It’s Craig’s turn to give a little groan in response, causing Tweek’s head to empty of all thoughts and a tingling sensation to begin in his groin. 

Craig feels warm under his touch, too. He feels a little smug knowing that it seems that whatever effect Craig has on him, he has on Craig as well. Tweek makes another moaning sound at the back of his throat, just to feel Craig tighten his grip on his waist. 

Craig begins to walk Tweek backwards, towards his bed. He’s not rough, his touch is more of a suggestion. Tweek braces himself to fall onto the bed, pulling his companion with him, never letting the lips on his stray too far. 

Craig wastes no time in hovering over Tweek, his hands ghosting over his chest, under his shirt. His kisses become more intense, more pressure behind them. Tweek feels like he did when they were teenagers, stealing moments just like this whenever they could, away from the watchful eyes of suspicious parents. 

Tweek trails a hand down, past the hem of Craig’s sweater, pressing a palm into the jeans under it. Craig makes a strained hissing sound against Tweek's mouth when Tweek finds the right spot. Tweek can’t fight his smirk. 

Spurred on by a sudden feeling of confidence, the origins of which are unknown to him, he slowly, deliberately moves his hand to the button of Craig’s jeans, pushing it through the buttonhole with one finger and sliding down the zipper with his pinkie. When Tweek slips his hand inside, Craig bites down hard on his bottom lip. 

The bed beneath them squeaks a little, but Tweek is certain his parents are asleep, so he pays it no mind. Or, he tries to. Craig is trying so hard to shimmy out of his pants without moving his hands off Tweek’s skin that he’s causing the sheets to rustle and the mattress to groan. 

“Craig,” Tweek says in between Craig’s hard kisses. “C-Craig, my parents are going to hear.”

“So?” Craig replies, nipping at Tweek’s swollen lip again. “They’re not even awake, dude.”

“But what if they are?”

Craig huffs, but doesn’t stop. He trails his lips down Tweek’s cheek, to his neck. He finally removes a hand from Tweek’s stomach to push his pants down to his knees; once they’re down, his fingers thread through the buttons on Tweek’s shirt, pulling them apart quickly until both sides are flat against the bed and Tweek’s bare chest is exposed. Tweek feels his entire body grow unbearably hot as Craig looks down at him with half lidded eyes and a dopey looking smile. 

He squirms uncomfortably as Craig’s gaze doesn’t soften at all. He feels suddenly self conscious. Even though he knows Craig isn’t going to say anything bad about his body. 

And, indeed, Craig’s eyes flick up to Tweek’s. He presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “Gorgeous,” he whispers. Tweek sighs, but he doesn’t say anything, just pulls Craig’s face so his lips are closer to his. Craig takes the hint and grins against Tweek’s mouth before kissing him again.

Tweek isn’t sure how it happens so quickly, but before he can even realize it (probably due to the absence of blood in his brain to notice these things), he’s now on top of Craig, both of them stripped to nothing but their boxers, slowly grinding his hips onto Craig’s. He feels a sense of satisfaction when Craig’s jaw goes slack, barely able to kiss Tweek back.

Suddenly, though, Craig stops him. “I-I need you to… get off me,” he says, his voice stiff. He groans when Tweek rolls off him. “Uh… I’m sorry…”

Tweek is confused for a moment, but realizes it as soon as he looks down. Probably not the best day for Craig to have been wearing such light coloured boxers, he thinks. He lays on his side, propped up on his elbow. Craig has a light blush across his face, and Tweek’s heart nearly bursts when he sees it. 

“You don’t have to be sorry for coming in your pants,” Tweek says with a toothy grin. “I don’t mind.”

Craig gives him a sidelong glance, then closes his eyes. Tweek yanks the blanket out from underneath them and covers Craig with it, kissing his forehead, then reaches over and turns out the lamp on his bedside table.

He’s almost shocked at how fast Craig falls asleep beside him, but Tweek can’t sleep. Now that he can focus, his stomach twists and his lungs feel like they’re not getting enough air.

How could he be laying in bed beside Craig in nothing but his underwear, just ignoring the zombies in City Hall? Who killed Kenny? 

And, he thinks, he  _ really _ needs to figure out what the fuck is going on with Kenny. He knows how stupid it sounds to think that Kenny could be alive after everything he saw earlier, but he can’t help it. He’s convinced.

And… Kenny. He feels guilty thinking about Kenny after what he had just done with Craig. He remembers the night that Kenny kissed him; it had only been the one kiss, but it still feels wrong to have gone so far with Craig tonight. But… at the same time, it doesn’t. He has no idea what to think now. 

His thoughts eventually lull him into an uneasy sleep. He dreams about being chased by an undead Kenny and an undead Craig all night long. 

He wants to wake up, but he can’t.

~*~*~*~

“Does anyone want to explain to me what the fuck happened here?”

The Deputy Mayor entered his office earlier that morning to a gruesome scene. Somehow, both of his zombies had impaled themselves on the broken window he had failed to notice. There’s a bloody outline that looks like it may have been a body on the floor, but there’s nothing there besides pieces of flesh and some orange fabric. 

Two smaller men cower in the corner of the room. Eric doesn’t have to yell, but it feels like he has. They both almost wish he had.

“Uh, w-well,” says the taller of the two in a nervous voice, knocking his fists together. “It looks like they got out.”

“Yes, it does look like that, doesn’t it?” Eric’s voice is so eerily calm. It’s unsettling. “Thank you, Leo, I never would have noticed that. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“You have the mayor,” the shortest man points out, his voice almost hopeful. “She should be waking up soon, shouldn’t she?”

Eric looks thoughtful, leaning on his desk and setting his doughy chin in his hands. “Soon, yes, I suppose. But she’s just one person. I can’t accomplish much with one person.”

“W-won’t it be easier with her, though?” Leo asks. “B-because everyone knows her, and won’t run away from her?”

“That’s… actually not a bad point. Good thinking. Perhaps you two aren’t as useless as I thought.” 

He walks over to the window, his hands folded behind him. He doesn’t say another word. Leo and his companion let out the breaths they’ve been holding and Leo crosses the room to check out the marks on the floor. He picks up a piece of the orange fabric, turning it over and rubbing it between his fingers with a frown.

The shorter man joins him, leaning down. “What’s that?”

“I dunno, Scott,” Leo replies. He holds up the fabric, as though he’s expecting a lightbulb moment. “It… looks a bit familiar, though.”

Scott screws up his eyes and peers at Leo’s hand. “...It kind does.”

Leo looks up to make sure Eric isn’t watching them. He’s not. He’s still deep in thought at the window. Satisfied, Leo tucks the fabric quickly into his pocket to look at later. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, but he feels like he needs to figure it out. 

Leo is left out of the loop more often than not, but this time, he’s not going to be blindsided and blamed for whatever happens. He’s going to get ahead, no matter what.

He and Scott stand up straight once again just in time for Eric to turn around and stare at them with his signature disgusted look. Leo can’t remember the last time Eric looked at him with any other expression.

“Why aren’t you two going to the hardware store? I need a new fucking window!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've literally never written anything remotely smutty before so this was a STRUGGLE, let me tell you. I was also pretty drunk when I wrote most of this. I hope it's okay. Pls don't roast me if it's not. I'm trying my best. I might try more of this in the future, I'm not sure. I've consumed a lot of explicit material in my time but damned if I can't do it too haha
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	14. Chapter 14

Tweek’s head hurts when he wakes up. It’s a reality he’s gotten used to more often than not lately with how shitty his sleeping habits have gotten.

He rolls over to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised not to see Craig, but even more surprised that he hadn’t even noticed that someone had gotten out his bed. Tweek is a painfully light sleeper at the best of times. He should have noticed Craig leaving.

He wonders briefly where he could be, when he notices his phone lighting up with a text.

_ Hey. Went to work. Let me know if you need anything. Xoxo. _

Tweek’s face softens when he sees the parting remark from Craig. It’s so un-Craig like, but so much like him at the same time. The soft side, the one that only Tweek gets to see. 

He stretches his sore legs (sore because he spent a lot of the night wrestling the blanket away from Craig so he wouldn’t get cold) and wonders briefly if he should pretend his parents' car is having trouble so he can take it in and see Craig, but decides not to. His father had only just bought the car, there’s no way anyone would believe there’s something wrong with it. 

He lounges around in bed in a patch of sun for a while, feeling like he’d much rather be a cat if this is what they get to do all day, until another text comes in. Kenny wants to meet him at the hardware store, but doesn’t bother to tell him why. He’s got nothing better to do. 

He dresses quickly, heads downstairs, and fishes the car keys from the bowl by the door, still half considering faking car troubles to see Craig. He decides not to tell Kenny about that. Kenny would probably smash the headlights in the car just to give him an excuse. 

The hardware store isn’t far, but Tweek somehow hits every red light on the way over. He’s a nervous driver at the best of times, and prefers not to, but he doesn’t want to haul whatever Kenny is planning on buying home on his back. 

He sees Kenny waiting for him out front when he pulls into a spot near the door. Since it’s still early on a Monday morning, there’s barely anyone there. Kenny looks impatient; Tweek hurries over to him.

“What do we need here?” he asks. Kenny grabs his arm and pulls him inside. 

“I need a crowbar,” Kenny explains. “And some wood, nails, that stuff.”

“...What for?”

“I want to build a birdhouse,” Kenny snaps, clearly annoyed about something. Tweek pulls his arm out of Kenny’s grasp, taken aback at his tone. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, stopping at the end of the aisle with the lights in it for privacy. “Is there anything I can do?”

Kenny just scowls, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Fine.”

Things clearly aren’t fine, but Tweek doesn’t reply and just follows Kenny towards the lumber. Perhaps he did something wrong. Maybe Kenny’s still pissed about what happened at City Hall the night before. Tweek can’t remember exactly what it was, but he distinctly remembers Kenny ripping his jacket. He’s wearing a different one today, so it must have torn pretty bad. 

They reach the lumber aisle and Kenny consults a piece of paper he pulled from his pocket. Tweek peeks over at it, but he’s not handy enough to understand the pieces Kenny is looking for. He just leans against the other side of the aisle while Kenny browses the wares.

He’s content to just watch until he notices that Kenny isn’t really looking at the lumber. He looks like he’s listening to something. Or… for something.

Tweek is about to ask what’s he’s doing when he hears voices from the other side.

“...I just don’t get why he can’t get his own window, or hire someone to do it. Do you think I know how to install a window? No. I can barely even  _ open _ a window. And this glass seems awful thin. What if it just breaks again? Jeez, then we’d be in real trouble.”

Tweek frowns. He’s sure he knows that voice. He looks over at Kenny, whose face has gone beet red. He’s very pointedly looking at the ceiling. 

“Ugh… I think I need to sit down, get a snack or something,” another voice says. Tweek’s sure he knows that one too. “No one put out breakfast this morning so I didn’t eat before I left…”

“Hang on, I think I have a granola bar in my pocket… oh, hey! It’s Tweek and Kenny! Hi, fellas!”

Tweek’s head snaps to the end of the aisle where the closest thing to a literal ray of sunshine Tweek has ever known is standing, hunched over slightly by large panes of glass. Tweek hasn’t seen Butters Stotch since he left South Park for school, but the young man has hardly changed. He even still has the exact same wide, toothy smile as he did when Tweek last saw him. Tweek waves, glancing at Kenny for half a second. If possible, he’s gone an even deeper shade of red.

As Butters makes his way over to the pair, a curious looking Scott Malikinson follows him. Tweek had never really been friends with Scott, but Scott greets him like an old friend regardless.

“What are you fellas doing here?” Butters asks, his tone conversational and good natured. Just as Tweek remembers it. “Me and Scott have to learn how to replace a window somehow.”

“Replace a window?” Tweek asks. “W-what happened?”

“Well, I dunno exactly, but the window in Eric’s office got smashed in somehow last night! I think it mighta been a bird, but I’m not really sure.”

“...Eric?” Tweek’s heart sinks to his stomach, his eye twitches once. “E-Eric who?”

“Cartman, silly!” Butters replies, oblivious to the anxious mess in front of him. “Over at the Mayor’s office!”

Tweek’s insides knot together. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Butters and Scott work for Cartman? Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, but as he stares down the small blonde in front of him, he feels dreadful. He should have known Cartman wasn’t going to fix his own window. 

And… does Butters know about the zombies?

Oh, no. What if Cartman knew that Kenny and Tweek had been in his office the night before and sent Butters and Scott to kill them now? He’s pretty sure he could take on Butters if he has to, but he’s not so sure about Scott. He vaguely remembers what Scott is like on a sugar high and does not want to get flipped like he did when they were kids. 

Butters is still talking. “...I mean, I’ve watched a few Youtube videos, but I think it’s a little silly that he can’t just hire a contractor or something to put the window in. I’ll do my best, though.”

Tweek eyes up Butters cynically. He’s so… innocent and childlike. Tweek can hardly believe he works for Cartman. Sure, he did some kind of fucking weird shit when they were ten, but didn’t they all? 

“This glass is awful heavy,” Butters says, shifting uncomfortably. “Could I get some help? Maybe?”

Kenny doesn’t waste a second before lifting the glass from Butter’s hold and shouldering it himself. It seems to be much easier for him than it was for Butters.

“Gee, thanks, Ken!” Butters says, looking up at the taller man in admiration. “That’s real helpful!”

Tweek casts Kenny a sidelong glance. Kenny is very deliberately not looking back at Tweek. Or at anyone, really. He also hasn’t said a word.

Butters pulls a list from his pocket and checks it over. “I still need a few more things, could you maybe follow me so I can get them?”

Kenny just nods, and follows Butters out of the aisle. Scott looks after them with a confused expression.

“Did that seem… weird to you?” he asks Tweek. “It just… I dunno. It was weird.”

“Weird how?”

Scott shrugs. “What did you and Kenny come shopping for today?”

“I… I dunno,” Tweek admits. “He just asked me to meet him here, so I did. I just assumed he wanted to build, like, a barricade or something.”

“It’s just kind of funny that he was here the same time we were,” Scott says, chewing the inside of his lip thoughtfully. “This happened the other day at Whole Foods. And last week at the Post Office. He wasn’t even sending a letter.”

Tweek considers this. “I don’t know what to tell you, dude. Kenny doesn’t like to sit around his house all day. He’s got stuff to do. Come on, help me find him. I want to get out of this store.”

*~*~*~

Tweek feels awkward as he approaches Craig’s shop. He’d decided not to smash his headlights in or anything, but stopped by his parents coffee shop to pick up a coffee and a sandwich and left to deliver it to Craig before he could change his mind. 

He peers in one of the large windows to the waiting room. He’s surprised to see Craig sitting behind the counter, his feet up, leaned back in his seat, watching the TV in the corner of the room. 

It does make it easier that there’s no one else there.

He takes a deep breath before pushing the door open, using his body to hold it open and he lets himself inside. The bell above the door dings and Craig looks over. At first his expression is bored, uncaring, but it quickly turns to a bright smile when he realizes that it’s Tweek. 

“Hey,” Tweek says, smiling back and approaching the counter, placing Craig’s sandwich on it and pulling his coffee out of the holder. “Thought you might want a visitor!”

He frees his own coffee and tosses the tray in the garbage. Craig happily opens his sandwich. 

“I was sooooo bored,” he tells Tweek as he takes a bite. “I guess no one needs work done on their cars during the zombie apocalypse. I’ve just been watching Red Racer all day.”

Tweek grins at the memory of Craig as a child, glued to the TV watching Red Racer. It had always been his favourite show, much to the annoyance of a younger Tweek, who preferred doing crafts or playing board games with his boyfriend. 

“I was considering smashing the headlights in my dad's car as an excuse to come see you,” Tweek admits without thinking. “I mean, he’d totally kill me, but I know you could fix it.”

Craig laughs, getting crumbs all over the place. “You don’t need an excuse to come see me, Tweek. I’m always happy to see you. And it’s not like I need to make an excuse to spend time with you here, the place is a ghost town. What were you doing all morning?”

“Kenny wanted me to go to the hardware store with him,” he says, sipping his coffee. “But he didn’t actually buy anything. But get this. Butters and Scott Malkinson were there. They work for the Mayor’s office.”

“The Mayor’s office?”

“Yeah, they were buying glass for Cartman’s window,” Tweek replies. “You know, the one we broke. But Kenny ditched me for Butters! Butters couldn’t carry all the glass so Kenny carried it for him and I didn’t see him after that, so I thought I’d come see you.”

Craig wrinkles his nose. “I can’t picture Butters replacing a window. Does Cartman know it was us?”

“I don’t think so.”

Craig considers this, taking a deep drink of coffee. But then he stops, sputtering a little.

“Wait, Tweek, you said… Kenny wanted you to go to the hardware store?” he asks with a furrowed brow. “Like, Kenny McCormick?”

“...Yeah? I don’t think I know anyone else named Kenny. W-what’s wrong?” The way Craig is looking at him makes him feel a little uneasy.

“Tweek… Tweek, Kenny died,” Craig says slowly, as if waiting for a reaction. “He died last night in Cartman’s office, one of those zombies got him. Don’t you remember?”

Tweek chuckles. Is this really what’s been bothering Craig? “Craig, Kenny isn’t dead, dude. I was with him this morning. He ripped his jacket on the window, but he’s not dead. It’s fine.”

“No, he died,” Craig insists. Tweek frowns. “He died, and you told me in your room that you didn’t think he was actually dead. That he would come back or something. But… Tweek, are you  _ sure _ you saw him this morning?”

“Y-yes!” Tweek says nervously. His lip twitches. “And so did Butters and Scott Malkinson!”

Craig doesn’t look like he believes him. “Was he… was he acting kind of weird or anything?”

“He’s not a zombie, Craig, and he’s not dead!” Tweek says, spilling coffee on his pants as he shakes. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Why don’t you remember that Kenny died last night?” Craig counters, setting his coffee down on the counter loudly. “Tweek, you saw it! We all saw it! And then you looked me in the eyes and told me you thought he died all the time. Tweek, what the fuck is happening?”

“I-I don’t know!” Tweek wails. “I don’t remember saying that! I’ve never seen Kenny die before! What is going on?”

Craig leans his elbows on the counter, folding his hands together and leaning his face into them. 

“Tweek, this isn’t normal,” he says. “Something… something isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but something is off about Kenny.”

As if there’s not enough going on right now. Tweek wants to smash his head off a window. He doesn’t know what’s happening. Doesn’t know what to say to make sense of things. Craig is very adamant that Kenny is dead, but unless Tweek hallucinated the entire morning, Kenny is definitely not dead. 

“We have to find out, Tweek,” Craig says quietly. “Here. Call him over.”

“We-we can’t just ask him if he’s dead, dude!” Tweek says, but as soon as he says it, a fuzzy memory surfaces of him doing that exact same thing. “Wait. Wait. Craig… Craig I think I remember.”

“You remember Kenny dying?”

“No, I… I think I asked him before. If he was dead.” Tweek’s stomach hurts. “H-he said no.”

Craig rolls his eyes. “Of course he said no, if you were dead would you be telling people that?”

“I’d be dead, Craig!”

“Well… okay, yeah. But I mean if you came back to life after. And someone asked you then. Would you tell them that you had just been dead? Because I wouldn’t. Who’s going to believe that?”

Tweek doesn’t know what to say. Craig is right.

“We have to find out,” Craig continues. “We have to find out what the fuck is going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not gonna like this.” Craig bites his lip. “But… We have to kill Kenny. And then wait by his body and see what happens.”

~*~*~*~

“God… does Kenny really live like this?”

Tweek shushes Craig as they peek in Kenny’s bedroom window. But… Kenny isn’t there.

“Shit,” Tweek whispers. “Okay. Well, we can’t kill Kenny tonight. Too bad. Can you take me home now?”

“Tweek, we have to find out what’s going on. We can’t just leave.”

“Uh, yes we can!” Tweek argues, his voice still quiet. “Craig, I don’t know why you want to know so badly, but I think maybe we should drop it.”

“No, dude, we need to-”

“Hey guys. What are you doing outside my house? If you wanted to have a threesome, you could just ask.”

Tweek and Craig are both startled by Kenny’s voice behind them. They turn around, shocked, to see him casually standing there, his hands in his pockets. 

“Anyway,” he says. “You guys need something?”

“Uh… uh-um…” Tweek sputters as Craig tenses up beside him. 

“Dude, are you dead?” he asks abruptly, blurting out the words before Tweek can make something else up. Tweek snaps his head towards him in shock.

“Craig!”

Kenny laughs, though. “Funny. Obviously I’m not dead. I’m standing right here.”

“No, I mean like… are you… fuck, I dunno, undead? Back from the dead? We  _ saw _ you die in Cartman’s office, McCormick. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Kenny makes a face. “Well, Tucker, it is my house. And I clearly didn’t die, and I’m not back from the dead or whatever weird shit you’ve thought up. You guys having a bad trip or something? Your parents put meth in your coffee again?”

“Ah!” Tweek half-screams at the memory. 

“No, we want answers.” Craig’s tone is serious, like Tweek’s never heard it before. “Something is up with you, dude. And you’d better tell us the truth.”

Kenny smiles wryly. “I can’t die.”

Craig pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dude, I swear to God if you start up on some bullshit about being the protagonist of your own story and not being able to die because it closes the book…”

“Craig… that’s really lame,” Tweek says, frowning in confusion.

“Yeah, but exactly the dumb bullshit he would say!”

Kenny shakes his head. “No, I literally mean I can’t die.”

He smiles a sad smile and begins to stroll around his yard. Tweek’s eyes follow him closely, not sure what he’s waiting for, but knowing something is coming. It leaves a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach that he can’t quite explain. 

“You’re going to forget all of this tomorrow,” Kenny says. “Tweek, I’ve told you this… five times now. But I might as well tell you again. I can’t die. You could shoot me right now and it might look like I died, and okay, I do for a little while, but I always end up waking back up in my bed. Not dead.”

Tweek is starting to get scared. “But… how?”

“Cult shit,” Kenny answers simply. “I’m not going into detail because, again, you’ll just forget, but the bottom line is that nothing can kill me. I always come back.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Craig says. “We saw you die, though!”

“Yeah, and I really don’t get why this time you remembered,” Kenny replies. “You guys never remember. Sometimes, Tweek, you come close, but then all of a sudden you don’t. People see me die all the time and no one has actually remembered it as much as you do, Tucker. I wonder why this time is different.”

“So you’re like… immortal? And no one ever remembers? Dude, what the fuck kind of cult shit could do that?”

Kenny shrugs. “Elder Gods,” he says, as if Craig would know what that even means. “Some shit with my parents wanting to get drunk before I was born. It’s caused a lot of issues over the years, let me tell you. But it’s been pretty handy lately, I guess. I can keep coming back to save your asses.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but a shot rings out in the dark from somewhere Tweek can’t see and hits Kenny square in the chest. He goes down quickly as another shot gets him in the head.

Tweek screams, tries to run over, but Craig grabs him and forces them both down and towards the house. They don’t have any bushes or anything to cover them, so Tweek starts hyperventilating. 

They wait in fear and silence until they hear footsteps coming towards them. Tweek’s hands grab Craig wildly, not sure where they land. 

“I’m not gonna shoot you fuckers, you can get up.”

Despite an overwhelming feeling that they shouldn’t, Craig pulls Tweek up and they face the speaker, unclear in the darkness who it is. True to their word, they seem empty handed.

“I would have shot him before he could explain everything, but I guess you’ve heard it before,” they say. It sounds like they’re using something to disguise their voice. “You understand, he’s going to be fine. I just had to get rid of him before I talked to you two.”

Someone grabs Tweek from behind, forcing him away from Craig. He wails, tries to reach for Craig, but someone has grabbed him too.

“What do you want?” Craig spits. 

“I  _ want _ you fuckers to stop trying to meddle with my plans,” the person says. The person who grabbed Tweek puts a cloth bag over his head and everything goes dark. He tries to kick them, but fails. “Everything was going so well before you broke into my office and killed my stock. You fucking idiots left so many fingerprints and you thought you’d get away with it? Fuuuuck that.”

“Cartman?” Tweek says, but the bag is so tight it’s muffled. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He’s dropped whatever was hiding his voice and it’s just the nasally, high pitched tone that makes Tweek’s skin crawl. “And you fuckers are going down. You’re going down hard. And don’t worry, Stan and Kyle are there too so you don’t get lonely. You’re all gonna burn, forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	15. Chapter 15

The bags are removed from Craig and Tweek’s heads after trudging through what feels like most of the town on foot. They’re, rather unsurprisingly, being shunted around by Butters and Scott; Tweek figured it out within seconds of beginning their journey as apparently Cartman can’t go twenty seconds without snapping at one or both of them despite the fact that Tweek doesn’t think either of them have spoken the entire time.

They’re face to face with the South Park Police Station. Tweek frowns.

“What are we doing here?” he asks, his voice coming out smaller and more scared than he would like it. Craig nudges him, as if to remind him that he’s still there.

Cartman looks up at the sign on the facade of the building and smirks. “I’m turning you in.”

“For what?”

“Oh, you’ll see.” Tweek doesn’t like the tone Cartman has taken. “But I think you already know.”

Tweek doesn’t have long to stew on this before Cartman pushes the doors open and strides in. Butters gives a little push to Tweek’s back.

“I’m awful sorry about this, fellas,” he tells Craig and Tweek quietly. “B-but you know what Eric is like! I have to listen to him!”

Craig shakes his head. “Shut the fuck up, Stotch.”

Butters makes a sad sounding noise in the back of his throat and Tweek can’t help but feel bad for him. Butters was never a bad kid, just a giant idiot 90% of the time. Seems like he never grew out of that. Tweek had always liked Butters enough on his own, but under Cartman’s influence he… sucks.

The police station doesn’t seem to be very busy, but everyone stops moving as soon as Cartman enters.

“Ah, Deputy.” Sergeant Yates, a little more hunched and wrinkled than Tweek remembers him, enters the room. “Are these the accomplices?”

Accomplices?

“Yes, Tweek and Craig helped plan the operation, but as I said before, the whole thing was Kyle’s idea.” Cartman still says Kyle’s name the same way he did when they were kids. Tweek cringes a little, knowing how much Kyle hates it. “So, just remember to treat him the worst.”

“Uh… sure.” Yates looks a little uncomfortable, but the look on Cartman’s face right now indicates that he knows he’s in charge. “We’ll just take these criminals with us.”

Butters releases Tweek only for Tweek to be grabbed by a police officer moments later and handcuffed. He shrieks in surprise, prompting the officer to shove him a little to get him to quiet down. Craig doesn’t react when he’s put in handcuffs, just scowls. 

The room with the jail cells is tucked away in the corner of the police station. Tweek remembers breaking in when they were younger; it looks exactly the same, only less cocaine. 

He catches a glimpse of Stan sitting down on a bench, his head in his hands, before he and Craig are pushed into the same cell. He hadn’t seen Kyle, but he can hear him pacing back and forth in the same cell as Stan. As soon as the officer locks the door behind him and leaves the room, Craig groans and sinks down to the floor.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” Tweek asks, his voice barely below a scream. “What did we do?”

A dark laugh comes from Stan. “He knows what happened to Heidi.”

“I  _ knew _ I should have turned you in before!” Kyle yells. His voice echos off the walls. “I should have told someone when you told me what happened! But I didn’t! And now… now Cartman is trying to pin everything on me!”

“Wait, what?” Craig asks, then seems to remember what Cartman said coming into the station. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, Craig!” Kyle sounds hysterical. “Yeah! Tweek is a fucking murderer, yet I’m getting blamed for it! And he  _ knows _ Tweek did it! This is all a plot to… I don’t know! Keep me locked up for life! And it’s  _ all your fault, Tweek!” _

This is too much for Tweek. His head is spinning. First, how does Cartman know about what happened to Heidi? Second, why is he trying to blame it on Kyle?

“Tweek isn’t a murderer,” Craig says defensively. Tweek looks at him; Craig is looking back, his eyes steely and determined. “It’s not his fault.”

“He killed Heidi!” Kyle yells. “He killed her and was too stupid to do anything with the body so she got found. And now, Cartman is trying to pin it on me. Fuck, dude, if you wanted to ruin my life, you’re doing a great fucking job!” 

Craig makes an angry noise, almost like a growl, taking Tweek by surprise. “Shut the fuck up, Broflovski.”

“What are you gonna do, Craig, hit me? We’re stuck in jail forever, asshole, you don’t scare me.”

Stan groans. “Just drop it, Kyle.”

“I’m gonna die in here.” Kyle’s voice is hollow, like he’s given up. “In any other world, I’d be able to get out and walk free, because I didn’t murder anyone. But Cartman is a psychopath. I’m gonna die in here.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, dude.”

Tweek’s head snaps up. The sound of a lock being picked accompanies Kenny’s bored sounding voice. 

How is that possible?

But as soon as the question enters Tweek’s mind, it leaves just as quickly and he’s happy to hear Kenny. Craig, however, looks suspicious.

“McCormick, I swear to God, if you’re a zombie, you’d better get the fuck away from me.”

Kenny chuckles. “I’m not a zombie. Don’t know why you’d think that.”

Craig seems to decide against answering that, instead casting his eyes to the door when Kenny opens it, having successfully picked the lock. He and Tweek quickly slide out of the cell as Kenny picks the lock to Stan and Kyle’s.

“I can’t believe there’s no one here guarding the cells,” Tweek says nervously, his eyes darting around as though he’s expecting someone to jump out of the shadows.

“Oh, there should be,” Kenny replies. “But Bebe is distracting them so I can get you guys out.” The lock to the cell slides open and Stan and Kyle exit. “We gotta go, though, we can count on a certain level of incompetence from our police force, but just to be safe.”

“What’s Bebe doing?” Tweek asks. Kenny shrugs, opening a door leading to some locker rooms. 

“God only knows.”

Despite the intensity of the situation, Tweek lets out a quiet laugh. Trust Bebe to provide a good distraction.

“How did you know we were here?” Stan asks. 

Kenny pushes yet another door open. “Cartman is dumb as hell and I heard him yelling at Butters and Scott when they were bringing Craig and Tweek. If he doesn’t want people to know what he’s doing, he’s doing a terrible job.”

The hallways in the police station are a little more confusing and twisting than Tweek remembers them being, but soon enough, they’re out the second floor fire escape. Kenny lets down the ladder, surprisingly silently, and they all file down. 

“This way.” Kenny gestures towards the main stretch. “I parked at City Wok.”

“Parked what?” Tweek asks. “You don’t have a car.”

“Did I say it was mine?” Kenny gives him a cheeky grin before scanning the area and crossing the street. “Token let me borrow one of his. We’re going to his place, by the way. I’ve already moved all our shit there. Might be stuck there for a while.”

“Why?”

As the five of them gather outside City Wok next to a shiny looking SUV, Kenny looks down at Tweek and quirks an eyebrow. 

“You’re criminals now, boys. The PD doesn’t really give a shit, but Cartman certainly does. You think they won’t come looking for you?”

~*~*~

Tweek hasn’t been able to stop replaying Kenny’s words in his head, even after they arrive at Token’s. He felt like he had left his body as they all gathered in the basement, ignoring every sharp look Kyle threw at him, staring off into a corner. He can hear bustling around him, but it’s only when Craig shakes him that he snaps out of it.

“S-sorry,” he stutters, giving his head a bit of a shake. “I’m… distracted.”

“It’s fine,” Craig replies gently. “Just wanted to make sure you were still in there.”

Tweek gives him a soft smile, which Craig returns. He doesn’t remove his hand from Tweek’s arm, sending the butterflies that had been dormant in Tweek’s stomach into a frenzy.

Now that he’s paying attention to his surroundings, the first thing he notices is Kyle curled up on the couch, his back to everyone and his head tucked into a pillow. Stan is sitting across the room, throwing glances at Kyle as if he’s not sure what Kyle’s next move will be. They’ve been joined by Wendy and Bebe, who are sitting together on the loveseat across from Kyle, looking at something on Wendy’s phone. Kenny is pacing back and forth. Tweek and Craig are on another couch, facing the entire scene in front of them.

Tweek remembers how different the basement looked when they played superheroes as kids. He wishes he could go back to those days, get out of the present full of zombies and potential criminal records. 

The door at the top of the stairs opens and Token emerges, Clyde and Jimmy in tow.

“W-wow guys,” Jimmy remarks as his crutches drag on every step. “For a bunch of wanted criminals, you all look pretty pa-p-path… like pussies.”

Craig scowls at his friend and Token is quick to intervene. “You’re not wanted criminals. I haven’t heard any police chatter on my scanner. I’m starting to think you being put in jail was to appease Cartman and they won’t do anything until he says so.”

“What do you have a police scanner for?” Stan asks curiously. Token smiles wryly.

“Can never be too careful.”

“So what do we do when they come looking for us?” Craig asks, shooting Stan a dirty look at the change in subject. “We can’t stay here.”

“We’re leaving South Park,” Kenny replies, his voice hard. He clears his throat. “It’s the only way.”

“And where are we going to go?” Stan shoots back. “It’s not like we can go back to Denver, the roads are closed. Are we supposed to do some Walking Dead shit and hole up in some random barn or something?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Kenny replies. He momentarily pauses his pacing. “Shit is about to hit the fan in South Park. Cartman knowing what happened to Heidi is only the tip of the iceberg.”

“What do you mean?” Tweek asks, his head spinning. Everything is happening quickly and he can’t keep up. 

Bebe answers this time. “Have you ever wondered why there are no zombies in South Park while major cities are literally overrun with them?”

Tweek shakes his head as Craig nods. Truthfully, Tweek had spent his weeks more occupied thinking about Heidi and the zombies that  _ did _ get in, rather than the lack of them otherwise. It does seem strange to him now, though: he remembers the newscasts Craig forced him to watch. Bigger cities than South Park were faring much worse.

“I’ve been doing some digging,” Bebe continues. “Cartman has hired someone to basically drive around the city limits and kill the zombies coming in. Or, I thought that’s what they were doing. Turns out… he had them herded.”

“Herded?” Tweek asks in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Beside him, Craig exhales loudly through his nose. “He’s collecting them.”

“Collecting them?” Tweek feels a little stupid, sitting here repeating everything, but he can’t help it. He’s struggling to understand. 

“He has… well, I’m not actually sure what I would call it,” Wendy says. “Somewhat of an army. He has probably fourty of them chained up under City Hall.”

“What?” Tweek squeaks and to his surprise, Clyde is echoing him with an identical look of horror. The room spins even more, he feels sick to his stomach.

“The ones he kept in his office weren’t enough?” Craig asks. “What is he going to do with that many dead people?”

“Undead,” Bebe corrects. “And we’re not sure yet. But, I don’t know about you, I don’t want to be around to find out.”

Kenny sighs, ceasing his pacing. “So… what’s the plan?”

*~*~*~

Tweek is nervous as they sneak out of Token’s house in the early hours of the next day. He has vivid flashbacks of their unfortunate trip to Denver weeks before and almost doesn’t want to follow his friends. 

He worries briefly about his parents, but figures that the parents of South Park have survived this long in their crazy town, they’ll find a way to get past zombie armies. They seem immune to the destruction somehow.

He also carries around a weight in the pit of his stomach at how much Kyle seems to hate him now. It hurts, a lot. For the longest time, Kyle was one of his closest friends, and even though he hadn’t shared everything with him, Kyle had always been someone he could always go to when things in his head started getting out of hand. He’s not sure what to do when Kyle shrinks away from him and begs Stan to make sure Tweek doesn’t get in the same car as him. 

Despite Kyle’s behaviour, Jimmy, Clyde and Token don’t seem to mind being near him, nor does Craig, although that hardly surprises him. Token assures Tweek that there’s more than enough room for him in the SUV Kenny had commandeered the night before. 

They agree to meet at what Kenny assures them is an abandoned campsite outside of town, on the outskirts of North Park. It’s out of the way and secluded enough that they can camp out until whatever the hell Cartman has in store for South Park is over. 

Bebe and Wendy are the first to pull out of Token’s driveway and disappear through the gate; Stan scowls in the direction of Bebe’s Corvette as the sounds of the engine fade in the distance. Tweek almost wants to smile at how hard Wendy had fought the night before to go with Bebe. Stan had tried to insist that she come with them, but that would leave Bebe alone, and Wendy didn’t want that. Bebe didn’t have an argument to that and let Wendy steer the conversation to somehow convince Stan to drop the issue. The look on Stan’s face now, however, says the issue isn’t dropped. 

Stan, still scowling, slams the door to his new van. Upon realizing that there was no salvaging the one he crashed, he somehow convinced his parents to buy him a new one. How he managed that, Tweek isn’t sure, but he’s never been one to ask about anything involving Randy Marsh. With Kenny and Kyle in tow, Stan is the last to leave.

Token’s SUV is a bit cramped in the back, being sandwiched between Craig and Clyde, but Tweek is almost grateful for the closeness. He considers himself lucky that the four friends even want anything to do with him. He doesn’t waste time wondering how Clyde, Token and Jimmy found out about the Heidi incident - all he knows is that they don’t blame him, and that’s all he needs to know. 

The roads in South Park are quiet, with no one but the group of friends travelling on them, as expected so early in the morning. Nonetheless, it still feels eerie, like it’s a sign of things to come. Tweek tries not to think about it and instead thinks of the next time he’ll be home. 

They pass an empty looking City Hall. His stomach ties itself into an anxious knot at the sight of it, knowing what Cartman has stored underneath. He wonders if anyone else knows. Likely, just Scott and Butters. He wonders how Cartman manages to keep something like that hidden. 

He tries not to think anymore, instead listening to Jimmy telling jokes in the front seat. As endearing as they are, they haven’t improved and Tweek mostly only laughs at them because he likes Jimmy. 

When they were kids, back before Craig and Tweek had confessed to each other how they really felt, the five of them would hang out at Stark’s Pond, and ended up more often than not laying beside each other, staring up at the stars. They had all been so willing to accept Tweek into their friend group when he and Craig started “dating” and barely batted an eye when the two began dating for real in middle school. Spending time with Craig and his friends was always so natural.

When he and Craig broke up, one of Tweek’s biggest fears was that he would lose their friendship and in a way, felt like he was breaking up with all of them. So, he just stopped talking to them. He never really ran into them when he visited home, so it wasn’t much of a concern.

There’s a certain comfort coming from sitting in the backseat of Token’s car with them. Craig is drawing circles in the palm Tweek is resting in his lap and Clyde is constantly tipping his phone towards him to show him some stupid meme or asking what he thinks about certain articles of clothing Clyde is thinking about ordering. Jimmy stumbles over his words up front while Token’s gravelly laugh fills Tweek’s ears. 

Despite the circumstances they’re leaving behind in South Park, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead, Tweek feels calm. Almost like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. And, he thinks, maybe things aren’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I know it might sound like it but this isn't the end, I just didn't want to leave a cliffhanger for once in my life haha)
> 
> I know this isn't my best. This chapter was really frustrating to write and this is probably rewrite 500 and if I don't just post it, it'll continue to like 900 rewrites. I'm awful at bridging like this. I am very sorry for this steaming pile of shit, I'm not really proud of it. But! I need it, so here it is. It's a bit holey for the moment but it'll be cleaned up in future chapters when shit hits the fan for realllllll. 
> 
> Get ready for more Craig and Those Guys!!


	16. Chapter 16

Camping fucking sucks. It sucks harder than Tweek could have imagined, and it only has a little bit to do with the looming threat of zombies.

True to his word, Kenny led them to a very deserted campsite, far enough off the road that no one would think to look for them. They’re able to set up camp around a shitty looking firepit, and luckily for them, the wet wood around them prevents a fire getting too high. The damp ground has the bottom of Craig and Tweek’s tent wet, and somehow, no one bothered to spring for waterproof sleeping bags. 

While Tweek spends his nights huddled up against Craig’s back, trying not to move and disturb the plastic bags he has lining the ground, he stews on the thought that Craig hasn’t kissed him again. Tweek tries not to wonder why, but he can’t help it. Is he embarrassed, nervous? He understands not showing it in front of their friends, but something’s changed with them and it’s agonizing that Craig seems to have just dropped it.

But, Tweek reasons,  _ he _ also hasn’t kissed Craig. So… maybe Craig is just waiting. Recent events haven’t exactly been romantic.

They take turns staying up to make sure no one finds them. Token’s SUV has become a sort of epicentre for hanging out when they don’t feel like sitting in the remnants of the snow. There’s enough room when they pop the trunk open to lounge around and see the mouth of the clearing they’re in. 

Tweek is glad that Kenny decided to prepare for the worst as early as he did. There’s an abundance of food, ways to cook it, and shelter materials. A few wind up radios and battery powered phone chargers don’t hurt the mix either. 

So, for as bleak as things might feel overall, Tweek is comfortable with his odds of survival. 

But Tweek wasn’t made for this amount of time away from civilization. He’s  _ bored. _ And what’s more, Kyle still hasn’t forgiven him, choosing instead to fill his days both ignoring Tweek and shooting him dirty looks as often as he can. Tweek pretends he doesn’t notice, but he does. And he hates it.

He doesn’t know what he has to do to make Kyle stop hating him. Despite everyone else thinking Tweek did what he had to, Kyle can’t seem to let it go. 

He’s thinking about it, staring into the fire while the wet grass makes him look like he’s shit his pants, he’s sure, before Clyde approaches him and shakes him a little. He’s startled, and jumps straight out of skin, looking around wildly, resisting the urge to rip out his hair.

“It’s just me, dude,” Clyde says gently. “Are you alright? You look… dead inside.”

Tweek laughs a hollow laugh. “Just distracted.”

“Is it Craig? Is he being mean to you? I swear to God, I’ll kick his ass.”

He laughs again. “It’s not Craig,” he replies. “But thank you, Clyde. I appreciate your willingness to fight your best friend on my behalf.”

Clyde sits down beside Tweek, holding out a fist, which Tweek lightly bumps with his own.

“He talked about you all the time,” Clyde tells him. “The whole time you were away, actually. He missed you a lot.”

Tweek can’t help but blush a little at the thought. Of course, he thought about Craig all the time even if he didn’t talk about him. 

“What did he say?”

“It was something different every time,” replies Clyde with a chuckle. “At first he was like a sad little puppy. Then he got all sappy, wanting to call you all the time. I told him he should, but Jimmy had him convinced it would be a bad idea. Like Jimmy knows anything about that shit. Anyway, then he kind of… accepted the idea that you left. I didn’t like that Craig.”

Tweek feels a lump in his throat and wants to cut in, but Clyde is still talking.

“But then you guys came back, and you were friends again, and Craig was literally like a lovesick girl in high school. It gave me hope, you know?”

“Really?” asks a bemused Tweek. He had never considered how invested Clyde had been in his relationship with Craig.

Clyde smiles a small smile over at the blonde. It’s friendly, warm.

“He’s my best friend, dude,” he says. “We’ve been there for each other, you know? And I know being with you makes him really happy. I just want you to know that. I also want you to know that I’m happy you’re friends with us again, too. We missed you.”

“Clyde…” Tweek bites his lip. “I appreciate it. Thank you. But I don’t… I don’t think Craig and I are back together. I’m really not sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will be.” Clyde doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “Sometimes Craig is stupid, and that’s coming from me, keep in mind, but I know he wants to be with you again.”

Clyde is so genuine, his smile is so comforting. Tweek is lucky they’re friends. 

“Thanks, Clyde.”

Clyde gets up, claps Tweek on the back. “Anytime, buddy. Love you.”

He walks away and joins Token, breaking sticks off trees to dry them out. Tweek turns back to the fire with a smile. The smile is wiped from his face when he catches a glimpse of Kyle, staring at him with pursed lips and a frown. Bebe is standing beside him, her arms crossed and angrily ranting into his ear. Tweek wonders what she’s mad about. Almost wonders if it’s about him.

He sighs, standing up, his pants wet and heavy. He’ll have to change. It’s starting to get dark anyway; he figures he might as well head to bed. Maybe read a bit. He’s not sure who brought books (he strongly suspects Token) but he’s glad they did.

When he crawls into his tent, Craig is already there, laying propped up on an elbow and doing a crossword in a paperback propped against his knee. He looks up and grins when he sees Tweek. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the book down, marking his spot with his pen. “Your pants are soaked, what were you doing?”

Tweek grimaces. “I sat on the ground.”

“Why didn’t you get one of the bags of newspaper?” Craig starts fussing over him a little, pulling a new pair of pants from the bag in the corner of the tent. “Jimmy made those to sit on for a reason.”

“Okay, mom,” Tweek says, but his voice holds no malice. He unbuttons his pants and starts to slide them down, taking the fresh pair from Craig. Craig makes no effort to look away, nor does he try to make it look like he’s looking anywhere else besides Tweek’s thighs. “I think Stan was using them.”

It seems Craig can’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of Stan. The past few days have really revealed just how much the two of them don’t like each other. They’re civil, but it’s been a long time since Tweek has seen Craig reply to anything Stan says with anything other than sarcasm. 

Tweek makes a show of shaking out the pants, making sure to swat Craig with the leg as he does so. He’s tired of his friends being at odds. It’s bad enough that Kyle hates him. 

Craig pretends to be offended. “What was that for?”

“You’re being contrite,” Tweek tells him. “You know Wendy is teaching Stan to knit? It’ll be good when he can finally knit hats and stuff.”

“Knitting is gay.” Craig leans back, still propped on his elbows. 

“You’re gay, Craig.”

Craig laughs a little. “Yeah, but at least I don’t knit.”

“When you need a new hat and no one will knit one for you, you’re going to be sorry,” Tweek says, wrinkling his nose. He still hasn’t put his new pair of pants on yet. Craig is still staring. Tweek is hyper-aware of the eyes on him. He doesn’t make any moves to change that, instead lowering himself down onto the balls of his feet, his knees digging into the ground. 

He changes the subject, gesturing to Craig’s crossword book. “How… uh… how are the word puzzles coming along?”

“I’m not very good at them,” Craig admits with a sigh. “You were always better at them than I was.”

Tweek smiles. While Craig was always better at sciences and math, Tweek excelled in humanities and loved word puzzles. He always tried to make Craig do them with him, but Craig would give up after skipping most of the puzzle every time, so Tweek would do them. It was endearing, seeing Craig’s giant letters in between Tweek’s small ones. 

“We could do one together,” Tweek says. He picks up the book and turns it to the puzzle Craig was doing. He’s only got two words filled in. 

Craig’s eyes follow Tweek as he settles in beside him. Craig stretches out his arm for Tweek to lean against. Tweek does so; he can’t help but snuggling into Craig’s chest a little as he does. He’s warm and Tweek relishes in the feeling of Craig’s body beneath his. Tweek tries to be casual, filling in three words quickly, knowing Craig isn’t paying attention to the puzzle whatsoever.

A cheek rests on Tweek’s head. The gesture short circuits Tweek’s brain. It’s so simple, but so intimate. He loves it.

“What element is ‘Fe’ on the periodic table?” Tweek asks lightly, trying not to show how much a simple gesture affects him. “I can’t even remember what oxygen is.”

Craig laughs out loud, the sound contained to Tweek’s head. “It’s iron. And… honey, oxygen is just O.”

“Why isn’t I iron?”

“I is iodine,” Craig replies, and Tweek can tell he’s really in his element (no pun intended, of course). “The symbol for iron is Fe because of the latin name for iron, ferrum. Iodine in Latin is ‘iodum’, which is still an I.”

Tweek twists his neck to look up at Craig. He loves listening to Craig talk about science, even when it’s just the periodic table that Tweek should realistically know for himself. He took chemistry in high school. Of course, he only passed because Craig did his homework while he did Craig’s history essays. He sort of regrets not trying harder in class, now. Perhaps he could have impressed Craig by knowing the symbol for iron without having to ask. He tries to make up for it by filling in another cluster of words. 

Before he realizes Craig’s has moved back to his original position, he feels lips ghosting on his scalp. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and he’s sure Craig’s noticed. He can almost feel the smirk moving his hair.

Tweek can’t handle much more.

“Clyde told me you talked about me a lot while I was at school,” he says without thinking. “You didn’t tell them anything embarrassing, did you?”

Without missing a beat, Craig replies, “oh, I told them all your secrets. Nothing was safe.”

“You told them about my secret obsession with One Direction?”

“Tweek, that wasn’t a secret,” Craig says, taking the hand that isn’t on the ground under Tweek’s body and placing it on a bare thigh. His movements are so sure, confident. It makes Tweek’s cheeks burn. “I’m pretty sure everyone felt second hand embarrassment when you posted that Snapchat story of you singing that One Thing song ”

Oh. Tweek had forgotten about that. “You didn’t have to bring that up… I was like thirteen… I thought it was really good...”

Craig squeezes the thigh under his hand. It’s comforting. 

“I liked it,” he says simply. “You know I always like hearing you sing.”

Tweek fills in another word, still trying to be casual. “Can’t say the same for you.”

Craig is a terrible singer, and he knows it. Not that Tweek is very good either, but Craig is genuinely awful. Tweek often wonders if he’s exaggerating.

Craig doesn’t reply to that, but Tweek notices as he’s writing in another word that his hand is sliding slowly up his thigh. He curls his lips under his teeth, half paying attention to the crossword, half watching Craig’s hand. 

“What did you say about me?” He can’t help it.

“A lot of things.”

“But… like what?”

Craig sighs. “Tweek, I said a lot of things. And I was angry. But… what did Clyde say I said?”

“He said you were like a sad puppy.”

“That’s… unfair.”

Tweek doesn’t know what to say, instead electing for Craig to continue.

He does. “I guess I can see it. I… I think I relied on Clyde too much for emotional support.”

“Clyde doesn’t mind,” Tweek tells him. “We’re lucky we have him as our friend, you know. It feels like I never left for school in the first place. Like old times. Him, and Token, and Jimmy. I was scared they would hate me. But they don’t. They’re really good friends.”

Craig makes a sound of agreement into Tweek’s hair, kissing the scalp once again. 

“I’m glad you don’t hate me, Craig,” Tweek says quietly. Craig pauses, takes the crossword from Tweek’s hands and places it on the ground beside him. The hand previously on Tweek’s thigh finds its way to Tweek’s cheek now, gently pushing Tweek’s head up so their eyes meet. Craig’s gaze is intense. 

He looks like he’s about to say something, wrestles with it perhaps, but then simply leans down and kisses Tweek instead. 

Tweek barely has time to react before Craig pulls him closer, tightly against his chest. He leans back, bringing Tweek down on top of him. He winds a hand in Tweek’s hair, the other resting on his hip. Tweek doesn’t know what to do with his own hands, settling on placing them on Craig’s chest. They tangle their legs together. It’s hard for Tweek to hide the effect Craig has on him when he’s not wearing pants, pressed right up against Craig. 

Tweek can feel the hair tangled in Craig’s fist being pulled back; he groans at the sensation. Craig responds in kind, releasing a throaty moan into Tweek’s mouth. The sound travels all the way to the tips of Tweek’s toes - he could listen to it forever. 

Craig pushes Tweek down a few minutes later, desperately trying to keep their lips together. When Tweek has a second to breathe, he looks up at Craig and speaks quickly.

“We  _ were _ trying to have a conversation,” he says coyly. 

Craig kisses him quickly, but when he pulls away, their lips are still touching as he speaks. “Tweek, you can’t sit there with no pants on, looking the way you do, and expect me to not do anything.”

He trails his mouth down to press kisses to Tweek’s jaw, then his neck, his lip dragging as he moves. 

“What do I look like?” 

Craig stops, just above Tweek’s nipple. Tweek shivers as Craig’s hot breath hits his skin as he speaks. “A fucking masterpiece.”

Tweek whines when Craig’s bottom teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh, his hips raising up and grinding into Craig. Craig looks up at him, deviously, biting down gently again.

Craig begins to move downwards once again, his mouth trailing his hand, and Tweek is really starting to get into it when an argument stops right outside their tent. Craig pauses, his mouth just above the waistband of Tweek’s boxers, to listen. 

“...you have to know how unreasonable you’re being, Kyle. You’re hurting him and I know you know it.”

“Bebe - “

“I wasn’t done talking, you asshole. You guys are friends, you idiots love each other, whether you want to admit that or not. Now take your head out of your ass and say you’re sorry.”

There’s no reply except a sigh. Craig’s mouth is a thin line in disappointment and annoyance. 

Kyle’s voice travels into the tent. “Uh… Tweek? Are you in there?”

“A little busy right now,” Craig answers flatly before Tweek can speak for himself. “Come back later.”

“Oh, dude…” Kyle whispers, but clears his throat and speaks louder. “Tweek, I just… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how shitty I’ve been. I think it was a lot for me to take in, what happened with Heidi. But you don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve me not knowing how to deal with things like this. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kyle,” Tweeks calls out. “I forgive you.”

Realistically, he knows he wouldn’t be so quick to forgive Kyle, not without Kyle doing a little more grovelling first, if Craig hadn’t slipped his hand inside his boxers and taken him into his palm. 

“A-are you sure?”

“Yes, Kyle,” Tweek says, gritting his teeth against Craig’s touch. “Now, I believe Craig let you know we’re a little busy…”

“Right, right, sorry. I’m gone.”

Footsteps trail away, but it’s only one pair.

“You too, Bebe,” Tweek grunts. She chuckles.

“Play it safe, boys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Craig slides the fabric down Tweek’s leg against the sound of Bebe leaving. He looks up at Tweek through heavy eyes.

“Well, then I guess it’s okay if I do this…” He trails off as his mouth becomes otherwise occupied.

~*~*~*

Kenny decides to make an expedition into town the following day. It’s been three weeks since they left, he reasons that he needs to see if it’s safe to go home.

“I don’t imagine you’ll find anything good,” Bebe says idly, watching Wendy correct Stan knitting. “We know what Cartman was up to. He’s probably gotten what he wants by now.”

“I need to make sure my sister is safe,” Kenny replies, his tone dark, not meeting anyone’s eye. “I made a mistake by not bringing her here with us. I’m not coming back without her.”

“You should bring someone with you,” Bebe says. “To watch your back. I’ll go.”

“No. I need to go alone.”

“Don’t try to be a fucking hero, dude,” Token lectures. “Bring Bebe, she’s got a gun. You can take my car. I’m pretty sure Cartman has never seen it, he won’t recognize it.”

Kenny doesn’t look happy about the idea of bringing Bebe, but he reluctantly agrees. It doesn’t take them long to load up and depart, but Tweek is nervous the whole time.

“You’d both better come back,” he tells them sternly. 

Kenny pats his shoulder and Bebe kisses his cheek. “We will.”

He watches Token’s SUV drive away, and his stomach twists into knots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ????????????????
> 
> I'm so sorry I disappeared for a bit. I got really into Skyrim and have played 176 hours in like 3 weeks. I know I missed that hype train by like ten years but it's so good.
> 
> This chapter is kind of a word vomit. I just wanted poor sweet Tweek to be happy for a bit. I love him.
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	17. Chapter 17

Kenny doesn’t come back. It’s just a somber Bebe, a shell shocked Karen, an angry Ike, and a blood stained SUV.

The first thing Craig says upon seeing Kenny and Kyle’s younger siblings is, “where’s Tricia?”

It’s Karen who answers. She grimaces, her face twisted in pain.

“She didn’t want to come.”

“What do you mean she didn’t want to come?” Craig demands, flexing his fingers as though he’s trying not to grab Karen as she speaks. “Is she safe? Where is she?”

“She decided to stay back,” Bebe speaks up, sliding out of the drivers seat. “I got in and got Ike and Karen, but when we stopped by your house, she had it all boarded up like a fortress. She said she was staying to protect everyone.”

Craig almost looks proud, but Tweek isn’t thinking about Tricia.

“Where’s Kenny?”

Karen looks up at him with watery eyes, her mouth open but not saying anything. Bebe looks down at the ground. It’s Ike who answers.

He walks over to Tweek, puts a hand on his shoulder. “He won’t be coming back.”

He’s speaking in a quiet voice, one only Tweek can hear, so Tweek responds equally quietly.

“What happened?”

“It was almost like they were expecting them,” Ike explains. “Karen and I were holed up at my place when Bebe and Kenny showed up. Cartman has… so many zombies. He has the whole city council, the police on his side. We had just gotten in the car and Bebe was about to drive back when we got stopped. They shot Kenny through the window. They seemed kind of surprised, so Bebe used that to escape. We buried him on the way here, once we were sure they weren’t following us anymore.”

Tweek bites his lip. He looks over at Karen, still in her seat, her head in her hands. He can’t imagine what she’s going through. Kenny and Karen had always,  _ always _ , been so close. Tweek’s heart hurts. 

“What about my parents?”

Ike smiles wryly. “They’re with Tricia, and Craig’s parents. She’s fucking scary, man. Cartman doesn’t bother her. Doesn’t really let her do what she wants, but close to. She raided the grocery store, still does. My mom and dad are still in denial about what’s going on, which is what Cartman counts on. I don’t know what his goal is, but a lot of people have died. I couldn’t stay there.”

Tweek is relieved his parents are okay. He had barely spared them a thought in the past few weeks, but without a sibling to bring back, he worried. 

He doesn’t really register Kyle realizing that his brother has made it to them. He briefly watches them embrace, but not for long. He can’t stop thinking about Kenny. It feels almost like a weekly routine at this point, the worry sitting so familiar.

How will Kenny find his way back to them?

Without thinking about it, he makes his way to the SUV, unbuckling Karen and helping her out. She’s been crying, he can tell. She doesn’t know.

Tweek can’t quite grasp  _ what _ exactly she doesn’t know, only that he does, and that things will be fine.

She has trouble standing up straight, which is fine. He leads her to one of the newspaper bags sat around the fire and sits her in it. She has a death grip on his hand so he makes no move to remove it. Perhaps it brings her comfort. 

“I’ll be your brother,” he tells her, staring into the fire. “Anything you need.”

“Thank you, Tweek,” she whispers and leans into him. “I miss him.”

“I do, too.”

*~*~*~

“We can’t stay here.”

Tweek looks up at Token, who is looking at no one. It’s raining, so the two of them and Craig are lounging in Token’s car with the back seat flipped down. It’s a bit cramped, and Tweek’s legs are falling asleep due to Craig draping his own over them, but he doesn’t mind. Better than getting stuck in the rain.

“Why not?”

“How much longer do you think it will be safe here?” Token asks. “Cartman already knows we left. Kenny and Bebe can’t keep going into town without attracting attention.”

Kenny and Bebe had formed an unlikely team, going into town once a week to get fresh supplies. They came back with less and less each time, but Tweek had a feeling it had more to do with the fact that the two of them were going stir crazy keeping camp for so long than really needing anything. Despite it being over a month now since leaving South Park, and now having Ike and Karen to worry about too, they were still doing surprisingly well on supplies. Kenny’s doomsday prepping had caused Tweek to malfunction a few times, in what almost seems like an alternate timeline, has proven to be a more solid decision than any other.

“Where would we go?” Craig responds flatly. “South Park has only lasted this long because Cartman is a maniac. I can’t see that happening in any other town.”

“I’ve been listening to the radio,” Token argues. He’s sitting in the front seat; he turns around to face Tweek and Craig now. He looks serious. “There are a lot of places that are still safe that we could go to.”

“Like where?” Craig sounds skeptical, and Tweek can hardly blame him. “And how do you know they’d take us?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Tweek lets out a nervous laugh. “Token, we’re not exactly zombie hunters or anything. Maybe Bebe and Kenny are, but imagine me against a zombie, or Karen. Or Jimmy, if he loses his crutches. What would they need us for?”

Token regards him shrewdly. “You watched a lot of Walking Dead or something, didn’t you? We don’t _have_ to be zombie hunters for a community to welcome us, you know. Maybe they’re just good people who want to make sure humans don’t, you know, go extinct.”

“Humans aren’t going to go extinct,” Craig insists, but Tweek can hear a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “We should just… stay here. Ride it out.”

“And what about when Cartman finds us?” Token counters, sounding angry. “What about when he leads his fucking  _ army _ here? Because, I guarantee that one of these little trips Kenny and Bebe are making are going to attract attention we don’t want. And they’ll follow us here. What do we do then, Craig?”

Craig doesn’t have an answer. Tweek’s lips practically disappear into his teeth as he sucks in a breath. He knows Token is right, but he’s not sure if Craig will be hurt if Tweek doesn’t agree with him. He’s scared. He’s tired of feeling scared.

“Obviously we’ll have to talk to everyone,” Token says finally, his tone more diplomatic now. “See what we can figure out. I don’t think the three of us are going to be able to make a decision for everyone.”

“Yeah.” Tweek decides to speak up before Craig can argue. “Yeah, Bebe and Kenny can plan something.”

Craig purses his lips but says nothing, just leans back into Tweek’s arms. “Fine.”

*~*~*

While Craig wasn’t the only one who had reservations about leaving, the group eventually decides to pack up and leave. Token got a signal on his radio and spoke briefly to someone from Fort Collins, who gave them instructions on how to get there from their camp. It’s not much further than it would be to drive to Denver, to their relief. Craig raised suspicions about how readily some stranger gave them directions, but no one shared them.

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Tweek comments lightly as they buckle themselves in Token’s car. He scoots into Craig’s side as Jimmy buckles his own seatbelt and Tweek can almost feel Craig’s breath hitch as Tweek’s cheek sits on his own. “Remember how many times you used to tell me no one was coming to get me? Feels weird to have to be the one to tell you now.”

Craig just glares at him. It makes Tweek chuckle, because he knows he’s right.

The campsite is empty, wiped of all signs that they had been there just in case Cartman sends someone to look for them. As Token reverses, Tweek feels sad.

He wonders how long they’ll have to be running for. He just wants to go back home to South Park, actually finds himself missing his parents. He hopes Tricia is keeping them as safe as Ike says they are. 

Stan trails behind them, with Bebe and Wendy at the back. Craig, again expressing his fears, tried to make sure they all took different routes, but the rest of them disagreed. Tweek can see that Craig is still a little bitter that no one listens to him, so he pats Craig’s leg. Craig takes Tweek’s hand in his and doesn’t let go.

He hopes that Craig worries for nothing. Tweek feels so disconnected from their new reality that he can’t even find it in himself to worry. Only a month ago he would have welcomed this revelation with open arms, but he’s not so sure that it means anything good.

The ride is silent. No one has anything to say. Jimmy yawns beside Tweek and dozes off, resting his head on Tweek’s shoulder. Impulsively, Tweek lays his head on Jimmy’s. 

And so they drive, into something completely new and unknown.

*~*~*~

“Alright, you bitch, it’s time to end this!”

A shot shatters the glass of the window beside Tricia’s head. She glances at Red and Nichole, across the room, and the three nod at the same time. 

Tricia peeks out the window, cocking a crudely made Molotov Cocktail in her hand while Nichole sneaks over with a lighter.

“Go to hell, Cartman!” she yells, and in one swift movement, Nichole ignites the cloth hanging from the bottle of Everclear she swiped from Craig’s room and Tricia throws it down towards the crowd in the front yard. She doesn’t know where it lands, but the grunts of pain and screams are vindicating as she and Nichole dive out of the way in anticipation of returned fire. 

But none comes.

“Get downstairs,” Tricia orders. “Go through the door in the basement, through the backyard. My dad should be ready.”

“Are you coming?” Nichole asks, pausing at the door. 

Tricia nods. “Yeah. I just need to see if I hit that stupid fucker first.”

Nichole leaves her, trailed by Red, and Trica peeks out the window. There’s a lot of smoke, she can’t quite see anything. 

But through the flames and the smoke, she squints and sees movement across the street. Someone running away.

Cartman.

She looks down at the gun on the floor beside her. Bebe had left it with her the last time they had ventured into town, days ago. Tricia picks it up, hesitantly, unsure if she should fire it or not. But she only has a moment to decide.

So, she does.

She doesn’t stick around to see if she hit him or not; instead, she runs after Nichole and Red out of the house, crawling through the gap in the fence, into her father’s waiting car on the street behind them. It’s a tight squeeze, but they make it and Thomas Tucker guns the engine and speeds off.

They don’t know where they’re going. They don’t even know if they’re going the same way as Mr. and Mrs. Tweak, as they had agreed. She hopes so; Mr. Tweak is the only one who had room in his car for the supplies her brother had left for them.

She thinks of Craig as they drive, the evening turning into the night. She wonders if Cartman would have gotten as bold as he did to attack their house if Craig were around. Probably, she reasons, Craig is an idiot and would probably say something stupid to provoke Cartman, but still. At least he’d be there.

And Tweek… she misses Tweek. He had just come back into her life after so long and now? Now she doesn’t know when or if she’ll ever see him again. But Tweek is with Craig, as he should be.

She misses Karen and Ike, too. She hadn’t wanted them to leave, but she relented when Karen started crying at the thought of leaving Kenny. She loves Karen with all her heart, she really does, but Tricia can’t understand why her best friend cries about everything all the time. 

“Where are we going?” she asks tiredly after a few hours. Her father purses his lips.

“We’re going to try Colorado Springs,” he replies. “Someone said they were headed there a few days ago. We’ll meet the Tweaks there, then try to find Craig.”

“How are we going to do that?”

Her mother sighs. “We don’t know, honey. But we will. We promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much content in this one, trying to set things up. I think I might break this up into separate stories instead of having this one run on too long; this would be like a prologue kind of, then the main bits, then the epilogue. Because while I lack motivation to write, I have a lot of ideas that I will *eventually* articulate.
> 
> Side note, thank you for sticking with me! I know I'm frustrating to follow because I sometimes have tons to write and release chapters regularly, but other times I just... don't. But it means a lot that you read my story <3
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


	18. Chapter 18

Empty. 

It’s empty.

And it’s been empty for a lot longer than the few days it took them to get there. Clyde swears and blames the long journey, for having to stop every so often, go off the highway to avoid people, but Tweek knows better. 

They’ve been set up.

Token drives around the town tensely a few times to verify, but there’s not a soul left in Colorado Springs. Shops and houses lay empty, doors off the hinges and windows smashed. Abandoned cars litter the roads. Belongings from a life left behind are scattered all over the place.

Tweek pulls out his phone to call Kenny, but there’s no signal. They had one going past Denver, but it cut out at an unknown point.

“What are we going to do?” Token asks nervously. “Have you seen the others?”

Craig shakes his head. “I haven’t seen Stan’s van in almost an hour. I don’t remember when I saw Bebe last.”

“Fu-fuck,” Jimmy stutters. “Fellas, I think we’re a-al-alo-a… on our own.”

Tweek hadn’t wanted to think that, but it seemed more real hearing Jimmy say it out loud. 

Craig pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s wait somewhere and see if they find us.”

“Should we leave a sign somewhere?”

“Yeah, good idea. Here’s the hardware store. Pull up, let’s see if we can find some spray paint or something.”

Token pulls up, parks his car behind a group of dumpsters. None of them want to separate, so they all sift through the bags they have for makeshift weapons. Only Token and Craig trust themselves with the huge steak knife and crowbar they packed. 

The air is stale and still in the store. The doors, long smashed out, have to be pried open to avoid cutting themselves on glass. Craig suggests splitting up, but Clyde immediately flies to his side, terrified, saying that they can’t. 

Tweek thinks Clyde has watched too many horror movies, but he admits he feels safer with the whole group. 

The shelves are empty, but they do their best to try to scrounge anything they can find, not letting one corner of the store go unsearched. 

In the end, they do find a few cans of spray paint. They also pick up a ball of twine and Jimmy finds a case of bottled water shoved under an overturned shelf. 

When they head back to the car, they seem in better spirits than before, chatting amongst themselves as they walk.

But Tweek can’t think straight. The hardware store felt… strange. He can’t explain it and he can’t figure it out in his head, but he knows something is wrong. He’s just not sure what it is. 

He brings up the rear of the group, dragging his feet and feeling nervous about it, but he can’t make his legs go faster. His chest is tight. His vision is starting to go…

And the sudden sharp pain in his head and the hand over his mouth tells him immediately that he was right to worry. 

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! With this chapter, I end part one. Poor, sweet Tweek!! Part two might take a while, as I want to have a bit more of it written before I start publishing because I have a really bad writing schedule and am trying to improve that habit. 
> 
> Thank you for reading my story! If you have any suggestions, feel free to let me know what you'd like to see :)
> 
> Find me over on [Tumblr!](https://wonder-tweeks.tumblr.com/)


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